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Santa’s Not Real and Three More Christmas Flash Fiction Stories

Tim is a freelance writer, poet, artist and storyteller. He always tries to find and include lessons for everyone in his writing.


Christmas is my favorite time of year. it is a celebration of the Lord who was born in a manger. It is also a celebration of family and friend. In honor of Christmas I always try to write some Christmas related flash fiction stories. Here are Santa’s Not Real and three more stories for your reading enjoyment.

Santa’s Not Real

“So, you’re telling me you no longer believe in Santa Claus.”

Gloria looked across the table at the white haired gentleman. She giggled.

“I stopped believing in him when I was a child. Which for me was decades ago.”

The woman caught his smile through his thick white beard and the little twinkle in his eyes.

“My dear woman, believing in Santa keeps you young. It allows you to harken back to a time when the world felt so magical. Well at least for a month or so. Close your eyes for a moment.

“What, what for?”

“Just humor me for a few moments.”

She thought it an odd request but something deep inside told her she could trust him. She closed her eyes.

“Now think back to your fondest Christmas. Maybe it was when you were a child. No matter lock onto the memory. Okay, do you have the memory.”

Gloria shook her head yes.

“Now open your eyes.”

Gloria opened her eyes. She was no longer sitting at the table. She was in a living room which was beautifully decorated for Christmas. Her living from when she was newly married. The room from her memory…but how? She looked around. It all looked so real. She could almost smell the scent of pine, feel the warmth of the fire… but how could a dream feel so real. She turned to look at the grey haired man next to her.

“Where am I? I mean this is the most vivid dream I’ve ever had.”

“It is not a dream. It is Christmas magic. As for the memory, you tell me.”

“But, but it’s impossible. This house was torn down years ago.”

Just then a tall man with curly blonde hair entered the room.


“Yes dear. Now why are you standing here in the living room. Tomorrow is Christmas Day and you know Santa will not come until you’re asleep.”

She waved him off. “Santa! You know Santa is not real.”

“Oh Gloria! Santa is as real as your heart tells you. I mean can you not feel the magic of this season. Santa is a big part of the season and without his spirit it would be a dark time.”

“Harold, we’ve had this talk before. The true meaning of the season is the birth of Jesus.”

“Oh dear, I know that but Santa is also part of the spirit.” He waved his hand around the room. “Not to overshadow Jesus but to add to the spirit of Christmas.”

“I don’t know why I’m having this conversation with you, you’ve been gone for a long time.”

Harold laughed. “I’m real. Touch me.”

Gloria reached out and touched his arm. It was warm and…there. She hugged him.

“Believe,” he whispered in his ear. “Santa is real. He is the one who gave you one last moment with me.”

She opened her eyes. She was once again sitting at the table in the retirement community. Across from her still sat the grey haired.

“Are you Santa?”

He smiled. “I’ve been called many names, Santa is but one of them. I assure you I am real.

Where’s Jingle

“Jingle, Jingle! Has anyone seen Jingle?”

The other elves looked up. They all shrugged their shoulders at the same time as if the move had been choreographed. The head elf shook his head. Time to report Jingle's absence to the boss.

A few moments later Head elf knocked on Santa’s door.

“Come in.” Santa exclaimed.

Head elf walked in. Santa glanced over his desk. “Yes?”

“I wanted to inform you that Jingle has turned up missing again.”

“Has she now?” Santa put down his tablet. “Hmm, what is she up to now? Well I guess I’ll have to find her?” He pulled a device out of his pocket. “Jari, where is Jingle at this moment?”

A ring on the outside of the device illuminated, spun round and round then stopped. A soft female voice emitted from the device. “Jingle is now in a small town named Bethlehem in the state of Pennsylvania.”

“Thank you Jari.”

“You’re welcome Santa.”

He looked back to Head elf. “Well I guess I’m off to Bethlehem. Hold down the shop until I get back. Oh, and tell Mrs. Claus I won’t be home for dinner.”

Head elf wrinkled his little brow. “You sure this is a good idea. I mean we could dispatch the Retrieval Elves.”

Santa shook his head. “Much too dramatic besides I need to get out and stretch my legs.” Santa touched the side of his nose and reappeared in Bethlehem.

He didn’t change his appearance because he figured this time of year no one would notice. He headed down Main St towards the Hotel Bethlehem. As he walked, little children kept pointing and saying, “Look, it's the real Santa.”

Santa smiled. He walked into the hotel. There sitting in a chair in the lobby was Jingle.

“You came yourself.” She said, not looking up from the tablet computer she was holding. “I thought you’d just send the Retrieval Elves.”

“No dear. As your father I decided to find out why you’ve run away this time.”

She looked up. “Technically I didn’t run away. If I had, I would have turned off my GST.”

“You have a point. The Global Santa Tracker is how I found you again.” He pulled up a chair and sat down. “So tell me why did you pick this town?”

She looked her father in the eyes. “I needed a quiet place to think. No offense but the North Pole is never quiet. There’s alway elves singing, toys being made, reindeer being trained…”

Santa held up his hand. “I get it. There are days your mom and I use the fairy dust to spend quiet time on the beach. Now what has you so concerned you need time to think?”

“Dad , you wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

“Well I’ve been thinking about life, love and taking over the family business.”

He lay his finger up side his nose. “As far as life and love go. I’ve found they will work out the way they do. As far as the business goes. Yes, it will be yours someday but only if it is truly what you want. Your mom and I will put no pressure on you just as her father put no pressure on her.”

“Wait, grandpa was Santa not pop pop?”

“Yes, her dad was Santa. My dad, well he was an accountant from Brooklyn. I followed in his footsteps, well that is until I met your mother and fell in love. She told me who she was. At first I didn’t believe it but when I discovered the truth I embraced the idea of taking on the role of Santa. Your mom and I only want to oversee the North Pole if you want. We all know the elves will find a new Santa when the time comes.”

Jingle got up and came over to hug her father. She kissed his on the cheek. He got up from chair and hugged her back.

“Thanks dad.”

He looked her in the eyes . “You take all the time you need to figure things out. See you when you get back to the North Pole.” He turned to go but stopped and turned back, “Maybe while you’re here you can find a nice young man.”

She smiled. “Oh dad, I already have one of those.”



Help, My Principal is Santa Claus

After the kiss heard round the hallways I decided to lay low for a few days. Some of my classmates were not happy because they held me responsible for our principal being pulled from our school. Not that they liked the guy, it's just because they were worried about his replacement.

Some envisioned an evil tyrant who would come in and confine us to our rooms. Others hoped we would get a nice man or woman for a change.

Finally the day came and me being the official school photographer I had the opportunity to take their picture. I can’t believe I had to stay after school for this. I could be at home lounging in front of the tv. As I sat in the principal’s office, a place I knew well, the door opened. In walked a rather stout man and a little person. Wait, are those pointy ears? Nah, just my imagination.

The school secretary, Miss Baxter, came in next. She looked at me. “Why are you here?”

I held up my camera.

“Picture for the school paper.”

“Well make it quick the new principal, Mr Clause has a lot of work.”

I followed Miss Baxter into the principal's office. He looked up at me. “Ah Mr. Toby Taylor. Have you been a good boy this year?”

“Umm,” I stammered. “I guess so.”

“Remember there is only naughty or nice…naughty or nice.” He winked at me.His eyes twinkled. “Ok, take your picture. I've got a lot of lists to check once or twice.”

I just stood there for a second or two trying to understand what was going on here.

“Well!” He said.

“Oh yeah.” I held up my camera and took a few pictures. I turned to go but made one quick glance back. Mr. Clause and the elf-like assistant were looking over some papers.

A couple days later I got my film back from the Fotomat. I opened up the envelope and looked through the pictures for the one of Mr. Clause to put in the paper. The picture wasn’t there. There was a picture of a man in a red suit sitting in the chair. Next to him there was an elf. I looked through them again. Nope, no picture.

Did the Fotomat give me the right pictures? I know when I stood there and snapped the shot of my principal but now as I sat looking at the picture one more time all I saw was a man in a red suit and an elf. I looked closely at the photo . It was the photo I took but instead of the principal…wait, is my principal Santa Claus? I was going to get to the bottom of this.

Elves Do Cry

A short story in sort of a poetic form/

As I was walking down the street one night—

I heard a noise off to my right.

The noise sounded like sniffing, snorting a boo hoo.

I stood there for a second not knowing what to do.

Curiosity got the best of me.

I crept forward peeked out from

beyond the tree.

There by a bush stood an elf

who looked like the ones on the shelf.

I must have made a sound

cause the elf turned around.

He, no she wiped tears away

I just stood there. What could I say?

“Why are you being so nosy?

Have you never seen an elf feeling lousy?”

“I’m sorry, I didn't mean to intrude but I just overheard you.

So I decided to see what is wrong but if you’re ok I’ll be gone.”

“Ok, ok I’m crying cause I’m sad

Christmas has gone from worse to bad.

The reindeer who brought me ran away.

Now I can’t get back to Santa’s sleigh.”

“Uum,” I said, then just stood there for a few seconds trying to think. “I’d like to help you but I don’t know a way.”

I don’t own a reindeer nor a number for the North Pole.”

“It’s ok, I understand. Thanks for taking a break from your stroll.”

“Wait, it’s Christmas Eve and you’ve lost Santa’s sleigh.

What happens if the presents aren’t delivered by Christmas Day.”

“Well, Christmas will come and Christmas will go

but Santa always arrives with a ho, ho, ho.

I’m just sad cause I won’t be there

when each package is delivered with care.”

“I see now, I see why you’re really sad cause everything now seems so bad, I don’t know much about being an elf

but it seems to me you could some Christmas magic to help yourself,”

“No, magic is not something you use on a whim

you’ve got to think of the end before you begin.

However you may truly be right

I need to use elven magic tonight.”

She took out a bag from beneath her coat.

Sprinkled some dust and watched it float.

She mumbled some words then she was gone.

The problem was she pulled me along

© 2022 Timothy Whitt