Christmas Flash Fiction (x3!)


I thought I’d do some Christmas-themed flash fiction.

Because it’s, well, Christmas.


This is a bit different to the other flash fiction I’ve posted – so here are three, interlinked, 200 word stories.



The Bet

Officer Amhurst turned to the passenger side, seeking verification from his colleague that she was seeing what he was seeing through the windscreen.

Racing toward their parked vehicle was a man dressed as an Elf, emitting a high pitched squeal. As he got closer the vague sound of bells jingling got louder and louder.

“Yup, I see him,” Officer Jones confirmed, folding her arms. “You have this one, Pete. I dealt with five drunks on our last shift. Why does everyone go crazy at Christmas?”

“It’s 2pm. Maybe he’s not drunk.”

“Bet you a fiver he is,” Jones said.


The Elf continued his journey over, every so often glancing behind as though scared that some invisible monster was catching up. He reached the car and knocked on the side.

Amhurst, who had been secretly hoping he’d run past, rolled down the window.

“You okay there, sir?”

“I’m being chased!” the Elf shouted.

“Alright,” Amhurst said calmly, looking at the vast emptiness behind the man. “And who exactly is chasing you?”

“Santa! I touched his beard!”

Amhurst shook his head as Jones stifled a laugh and held out her hand for her winnings.

The first round was on her tonight.


The Grotto

“And how old are you, little man?” Alan asked the boy, who quickly dashed behind his mother’s legs.

“He’s three,” the mother said, glancing at her watch. “How long until we get into the Grotto?”

“Oh, not long now.”

He was trying to sound cheerful in spite of the burning sensation at the back of his neck. The Grotto was in a ridiculous location – a park in December – but the low temperature hadn’t managed to cool the chafing of the stupid Elf outfit.

“And who is this?” Alan asked, crouching down to the boy’s dog.

“That’s Santa,” the boy said proudly, stepping out from behind his mother.

“Great name!”

“We call him that because he’s got a white beard!”

Alan looked closer and saw what the boy meant; around the dog’s mouth was an odd goatee of white. He reached out to trace the outline with his finger.

The mother suddenly tensed.

“No! He doesn’t like-”

The dog reared up and lurched at Alan, who watched in horror as the leash slipped out of the woman’s hand.

Pushing the dog away, he turned and made a run for it across the park.

Why did everyone go crazy at Christmas?


The Change

“Are you going to be long?” Susie called. “I have to leave soon too, you know!”

“Yes, I know,” said the unamused voice behind the bathroom door.

She rolled her eyes. At nine o’clock she was scheduled to meet a client promising thousands to her firm. On the other hand, her boyfriend – the perpetually unemployed actor – was getting ready for the first day of yet another temp job.

In short, he could be late, she couldn’t.

“Are you coming out?!”

The bathroom door opened. Her annoyance immediately disappeared as she took in the sight of her boyfriend in his green leggings, red tunic, and pointy hat. With jingling bells around the rim.

Why did everyone go crazy at Christmas?

“How do I look?” he asked rhetorically.


“Good ‘wow’ or bad ‘wow’?”

“Um… Put it this way, I think we’ve finally found something worse than that hamburger costume…”

“Right, I’m not doing it,” he said, unbuttoning the tunic.

“You have to do it, Alan, we need the money. How else are we going to afford more bells for you?”

He grunted and slammed the door.

“Oh come on,” she said, “it was a joke! Keep your leggings on…”




Click here for more flash fiction!


9 thoughts on “Christmas Flash Fiction (x3!)

      • The current Tom Hanks movie BRIDGE OF SPIES is written by the Coen brothers (along with British playwright Matt Charman) so that might be a contemporary opportunity to check out their writing smarts. I saw this movie last week on a 9 hour flight to Sth Korea and it’s well worth the look.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s