Prompt 1

Adina Dincă
Writing Prompts
Published in
8 min readSep 6, 2017

“Write a paragraph that includes:
a mouse
a peppermint stick
a red bucket”

Christmas-ing Left and Right

Photo source Patryk D. Pexels

“ ’Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house…”

Fucking hell.

He’d heard that story thousands of times already. And it always ended the same way. Wasn’t it supposed to somehow end differently? Was it really not meant to have a different ending every time? Well, it should have been. At least according to him.

Jeremy was pissed off. Every single year was the same. For two freaking weeks he couldn’t step outside his home. There were screaming kids and dogs and those gigantic storytelling morons everywhere. And the smell of pie. Mmm, pie. No chance to get to that now.

He wished they’d all get the hell out of there. And for the first time ever, he was hellbent on not letting them win.

For the first time ever, he would not back down. He would claim what was his. He would go hang out in the living room. At least at night. It seemed that no one was there at night. Maybe they had even left some pie crumbs on the floor. They were always so sloppy.

The exile was about to end, once and for all.

“Jingle bells, jingle bells…” Oh no. Jeremy caught himself slipping into the madness and shuddered dramatically. He was not going down that path. He was heading slowly towards the living room, when he noticed.

“What a fucking liberty!!!”

The house was…wrong. Everything was so…sparkly. What the hell had happened there?! What had they done? It was just…wrong! Those imbeciles. They had ruined it. Was is going to stay like that forever? Was there any pie around? A hundred important questions were racing through his mind, when a chubby little hand caught him and lifted him up.

“Snakeyyyyyyy!!”

“Oh, fuck.” Jeremy was staring into the kid’s sugar-crazed eyes, face level. “Fuckfuckfuckfuck”.

“Are you also waiting for Santa?”

“Umm, no fuc…”

“Hey, you’re not supposed to say bad words. Now you have to put at least…one, two, three, four…5 dollars in the bad word jar!”

“What the…” Jeremy looked at the blond, curly haired beast in disbelief. How the hell was he understanding him?

“Do you want some cake? Are you Santa?”

“Santa??” Cake? Well, actually…

“Not now, Jeremy”, he muttered to himself.

“Actually, I am the house snake.”

“The house snake?” The kid’s blue eyes were suddenly twice as big. “The house snake??”

“Yes…the house snake…” The blond creature seemed a bit slow. He would try to be as clear as possible. Maybe it was retarded.

“Ah, I thought you were Santa”, the kid sighed in disappointment and headed towards the couch, dragging Jeremy along.

“What is a Santa? Have you never seen a snake before? You even knew I was a snake when you saw me!”

“Yeah, but…I thought, maybe…because Grandma told me Santa is everywhere and can show up in different ways…”

“Nope. Just the house snake here.”

“So, what do you do all day? Where do you live, Mr. Snake?”

Mister Snake. He could get used to that. “I wonder if I can get the kid to call me Master…”, he thought to himself.

“I’m the house snake. I obviously live in the house. Just under the staircase. I protect the house…from…bad spirits…and…mice, you know?” That should stress out how absolutely necessary he was. Fat-Hands seemed gentle enough, but you could never know. “I’m also not waiting for Santa at all. It’s all yours!”

“Mice? You eat mice??” The beast’s eyes had, oddly, started quivering and watering. Surely that wasn’t a good sign.

“No, no, no…I just…escort them out, little creature. Because they are often…lost. And stuff.” Big fat liar, that’s what he was. He hadn’t seen a mouse in ages. Plus, he was scared of the little fuckers. The thought of eating them made him gag a bit. “Mmm, pie…”

What?”

“What?”

“You said pie. Do you want pie? Wait here!”, the child ran off excitedly.

“Wait!” “…actually…on second thought…” A maniacal little laughter was bubbling in his mind. If he had had hands he would surely do the evil fingers thing he saw on TV once. “Well, I’m a weak snake…who happens to love a slice of pie or two every now and then…Or perhaps an entire one, occasionally, but that only happened twice! Or maybe three times, at most. And it’s not like anyone needed it. Just a lost little pie hanging randomly on the windowsill.”

The strong smell of vanilla and cherries snapped him out of his delusion. The kid had delivered. Maybe this species was more useful than he had previously thought. And the pie!! It was right there on the couch, waiting for him to gobble it down. “Mmm, pie!”

Mr. Snake, your eyes are so sparkly and beautiful!” The beast grabbed him swiftly and started hugging him enthusiastically.

“What the….get…off…leave me alone…get…offf!!”, Jeremy was struggling to escape the vigorous creature.

“There, there, I have brought this pie to you, Mr. Snake!”, the kid said with a twinkle in his eye and a joy that was making Jeremy confused.

“Ok…that’s…very good!” Jeremy said, awkwardly, heading towards the enticing pie. “Mine!” The little flashes of maniacal laughter were blinking in his head again. He sent them away with a shake of his head and started devouring the pie. “Mmm, vanilla! And the cherries are still intact! Mmmm…this french pastry…” Ok, he was admittedly starting to sound a little weird. Like that rat he saw in the movies, the one who was cooking a lot. “A pinch of salt!” Hm. Better not.

The kid started giggling, watching him wide-eyed. “You sure like pie”, he said. His voice kinda sounded like jingling bells.

“Do you want some?” Jeremy pretended to offer, all the while hoping for a firm no.

“Nah, Grandma told me Santa wouldn’t like it if I ate pie after dinner.”

“What’s up with you and this Santa thing?” Jeremy was already lying on the pillows, bathing in a sugar coma.

“You don’t know Santa????”

“Geez. Chill out, will ya? You’re going to wake everyone up. And judging by what I know about your beloved Grandma, I don’t think she’d like seeing you here.” “Not to mention me”, he muttered under his breath. “I don’t know Santa. What’s this all about?”

“SANTA IS THE BEST EVER!!!!” The kid squealed, jumping on the couch, disturbing Jeremy’s postprandial stupor. So much for keeping quiet.

Shhh!!

Santa is the best ever!!” The child started whispering weirdly, almost growling, pushing a napkin with a drawing of a jolly old man in Jeremy’s face. “He comes on Christmas Eve, when no one sees him, and he brings gifts!!! And he loves us all and he brings candy and he brings trains and he brings toys and he brings hats and he brings gloves and he brings candy and — “

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. So this Santa guy can bring anything?”

YES!!”

“Shhhhhh!!!”

“He can bring anything and anything can happen! IT’S CHRISTMAS!!!!”

“Just keep it down, ok? Hmm, Christmas…is this the cause of all this sparkly-ness? And who the hell brings a tree in the house.

Jeremy started looking around. The tree was covered in colourful lights, blinking to a rhythm. There were red and gold decorations everywhere. And so many cookies. And a glass of milk. That was kind of odd. There was a red blanket thrown over the couch, with the same jolly old man on it, and some fresh weeds above every door frame. Everything looked kind of…beautiful…Everything was white outside, and it was snowing heavily…and the snow started sparkling in the moonlight, reminding him of the Christmas tree…He could hear a song far, far away…And it was so warm inside! A crackling lullaby was coming from the fireplace…

“Grandma says Christmas is the most beautiful time of the year. Everyone gets together and eats together and gives each other presents. Grandma tells us stories by the fireplace and she gives us cookies…” Curly was drifting off, snuggling with the Santa blanket.

“Listen, kid. What is your name?”

“Mickey…”

Hmm, Mickey. I knew a mouse named like that…shudder…”, Jeremy muttered to himself. “When is Santa supposed to come?”

“I don’t know. Grandma said he wouldn’t come if anyone was awake. But I think he won’t come anymore to me this year…I ate many cookies after dinner…And I didn’t wash my hands after I played with Jinxy. Plus, I hid my Grandma’s glasses…” Mickey dozed off, mumbling something again, with rainy eyes.

Jeremy felt…tender. Grandma was quite the expert, wasn’t she? What if this Santa guy wasn’t going to come? What if this kid was going to wait all night and come morning there would be no present for him?

A clock struck 12 times for midnight. Jeremy knew he had to do something. He slithered off quickly, looking frantically around the house for something to give to the child. Surely the kid would have already seen everything around the house and would then know that the gift wasn’t truly from Santa…

He went in his home, just under the staircase, slipping easily through a hole no one had covered yet. Over the years, he had gathered quite a few things that ended up under the staircase… Now, seeing the Christmas tree, they all made more sense. A Christmas globe, some golden snowflakes…a Santa napkin. He had previously thought it was a portrait of the owner of the house. Humans tended to like photos of themselves.

Not wasting any time, Jeremy grabbed a tiny red bucket made from some kind of shiny metal, a peppermint stick that, surprisingly, he hadn’t already eaten yet, and a bunch of the glittery rope tied around the tree. He made a little bow, and put the present on the couch, next to Mickey.

“Look at this unsuspecting human…”Jeremy felt warmer than ever, and had a little glow in his soul. Smiling ear to ear, he headed off to his own bed. Whoops! Accidentally knocked the glass of milk on his way on the carpet. Nevermind, Grandma could blame the dog. Something told him that the kid’s grandma was not going to be as open-minded about house snakes as Mickey.

Maybe there is something to this whole Christmas thing”, Jeremy thought to himself, right before dozing off.

It seemed like just seconds before he was woken up by excited squeals and the ruckus going on in the living room, but it was already bright outside. Christmas morning. And the running and screaming and singing and storytelling and barking started again. Jeremy heard Mickey’s voice, and peered into the living-room from under the staircase.

“I knew he was Santa!” the blond child sighed with a smile on his face, and the same quivering blue eyes.

As for Jeremy, he had still not noticed the mysterious vanilla-cherry pie right next to his bed.

The End

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This prompt was taken from “Daily Writing Prompts” on Tumblr

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Adina Dincă
Writing Prompts

Writer and traveler, published on Thought Catalog.