Dear Thing That Hides My Christmas Stuff,
I bet Santa would put you on his naughty list
Dear Thing,
Hello again.
I trust you found this letter.
I intended to put it beneath my Christmas tree, but you know what? The tree’s been hidden. I wonder who did that?
Probably the same small, tiny ‘thing’ that hid my decorations. And my presents. And my Christmas sweets.
Now, I know you must feel a bit mad. Is it probably to do with the poison and traps I put down in the flat? They were just there to stun you, not anything worse. You do realize that, right?
Or is it because I made the previous letter I sent to you public on this publication? I know you’d know. My internet history on my laptop shows the times I went on sites I don’t remember having done.
Now, I have nothing to show that it’s Christmas. Not one festive sausage. Yeah, the pigs in blankets are all gone too. And the parsnips and turkey. But do you know what is still there? The sprouts.
You utter evil genius.
And you know, when I sat there after the last of my tinsel had gone, I realized what really mattered. Because now every bit of the things I was going to celebrate Christmas had been hidden away, the emptiness made me think about what I should fill it with instead.
More traps. To catch you.
What am I going to tell Santa when he turns up and there are no Sherry or mince pies? He may never visit me again. Then where would I get my coal from?
Yours sincerely,
Stefan
P.S I hope you are haunted by three ghosts who show you the error of your ways, and then, by Christmas morning, you give everything back to me!!!
The first letter to the Thing that hides my stuff.
