Mysterious Santa and the Christmas Miracle

Nickel Novel

Title: The Mailman

By: James Kafka

 

A Rock & Rye whiskey bottle jutted out from the pocket of the man dressed like Santa Claus, though he didn’t look anything like a traditional Santa Claus; to thin, to short, to feeble – and he was wearing sunglasses. He certainly wasn't jolly either and frequently coughed. 

He sat on a large, red throne, making him look even smaller, as he waited for the next child to sit on his lap – which was me. The pathetic looking Santa looked more like my Uncle Joe when he came to visit – dazed and slurring every word.

Santa glanced at me briefly, then motioned with a wave of his hand for me to come forward. Instantly, a cold shiver went up and down my spine. I walked towards him. He coughed. The smell of his breath was vile. In a croaky and cheerless voice, he said and asked, “Merrrry Christmas, kid. What’s your name?”

Whatcha want kid?

I told him, Carrie, and reluctantly sat on his lap. Being up close to him, I noticed an old scar on his forehead that stretched beneath his dark glasses. My eyes were rudely fixated on it when he asked, "Whatcha want, kid - for Christmas." 

I hesitated for a moment, and then in one breath, I quickly and at length, systematically, like an auctioneer, rambled off the thirty things I wanted. 

He half-heartedly chuckled and replied, “Sure kid, no problem.”

I jumped off his lap and scampered back to my mother. But that scar, that scar, I thought shaking my head. It jostled a frightful memory – something that happened two years ago.

Suddenly, I remembered. The mailman! The brave mailman, who saved me. It happened when I was walking home from school, on the road near the dried-up creek bed, the place my mother told me to avoid.

From the dense tree line, a wolf came running towards me. I was so overwhelmed with fear, my legs wouldn't move. I did the only thing my fear allowed - I screamed! 

Lucky for me, at that very moment, the mailman was driving down the road and saw what was happening. He smartly drove in between me and the wolf and jumped out, waving his arms and yelling at the wolf. Then, I heard the mailman bellow an agonizing cry of pain. I couldn't see what had happened and could only assume the worst. 

I managed to regain my legs and ran as fast as I could. After going a short distance, I looked back and saw the wolf running away. The mailman was hunched over, but thankfully still alive. I should have gone back and thanked him; I regretted that I didn't. At the time, I thought I'd surely see him again someday - I never did, until now. 

I was certain Santa Claus was the mailman who saved me, and now was my chance to finally thank him. I turned around and ran back. I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank You, Mailman - I mean, Santa Claus!” I joyously said.

He raised his arm and from around his neck, pulled over his head a leather string. Attached to it was a large claw. "I took care of that pesky wolf. Merry Christmas, kid." as he and handed to me.

Then with a half-smile, he responded, “Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays a courier from the swift completion of their appointed rounds . . . not even a wolf.”

-jk-

Be thankful for every moment, because it might be your last.

Sound of Silence

 

Nickel Novel

 

Title: Sound of Silence

 

By: Maggie Flathead

 

On a cold, autumn morning…

An old tree suddenly plummeted to the frozen ground below. Its brittle branches, large and small, thrashed against an adjacent tree, fracturing its numerous frail limbs as it fell. The shattered appendages swarmed chaotically. Squirrels scurried from their nearly finished winter nests. Frightened birds took to the air. When the mighty tree ultimately slammed onto the forest floor with a titanic thud, the ground trembled, bark split, dirt swirled, and ice crystals darted into the cold air like a well-planned fireworks display. The thunderous echo of the natural event lanced through the tranquil timberlands in every direction.

A father, who was fishing at the river with his son that morning, heard the loud clashing of timber and quipped with a chuckle, “I reckon trees do make a sound when they fall, even if we weren’t here to hear them.”

His son, who was busy sending a text message to his friend, replied, “Huh?”

                              RIP - Chick, thanks for the ride

At 65 years old, this is my life now. I get word sexy!

Verbiage: a profusion of words usually of little or obscure content. Speech or writing that contains too many words or that uses words that are more difficult than necessary.

BAH! – I’d rather get word sexy. Go big or go home!

Finding the right combinations of words that will accurately translate a writer’s creative ideas is not easy. So, what’s wrong with getting a tad bit word sexy?

My definition of word sexy?

Word sexy is a phantasmagorical expedition to try and find sets of words that have never met, but make them sound like they were always meant to be together.

j/k

I Found my Car Keys

Just in case you're bored today.

Nickel Novel

Title: I Found my Car Keys

By Brenda Lee DeWinters

     

Last night, like most night’s before I go to bed, I brushed my teeth and after, I ambled over to my bed. I felt a chill in the air and wrapped the covers tightly around me. Then, as I often do, I thought about my day before saying my nightly prayers.

     

The moment I started to pray; I heard a noise. It sounded like the opening of a window – in my office. The noise was followed by a louder noise. A cold shiver engulfed my body. Should I go or should I ignore it, I anxiously thought to myself. If I didn’t, no one else would. I live alone.

     

I mustered my courage and as quietly as possible, I eased out of my bed and began walking cautiously towards my office. I grabbed the door handle ever so gently and opened the door and flipped on the light switch all-in-one swift motion. Much to my surprise, standing near the open window was a young man. He looked at me with startled fear. Of course, my startled fear was equal to his. Then, without a word spoken, he briskly raised his right arm. In his hand was an automatic pistol. He squeezed off three shots. Bam! Bam! Bam! The first bullet hit my left shoulder. The second took off my left index finger as I raised my hand. The third nicked my left ear.

     

After the three shots, my survival instincts kicked in. The pain of being shot, non-existent. Adrenaline fueled; I lunged head down towards him. The crown of my head hit him squarely in the chest. He fell back against the open window frame. While he struggled to regain his footing, I grabbed one of the daggers in a skull I have hanging on the wall next to the window. It was an impulse purchase at a convention that I went to several years ago. Don’t judge me.

     

I wildly stabbed at him, striking his neck. He screamed. Blood squirted from his neck like a broken water main. I withdrew the blade. He dropped the gun and grabbed his neck with both hands. He then fell to his knees and looked up at me. His eyes. His eyes were beset with utter despair. Our eyes were locked together for what seemed like hours, though it was no more than a few seconds. 

     

I leaned over, picked up his gun and aimed it at his head. But just as I was about to pull the trigger, he collapsed face first to the floor. Dead I presumed, or soon to be. I turned to leave and as I did, I noticed a shinny, silver glint jutting out from underneath a sheet of paper. MY CAR KEYS! I had spent the entire day looking for them. Whew! It’s always a great feeling to find something you misplaced. Obviously, I hung them on the key rack before calling the police.

I write Nickel Novels, as I like to call them, for various small publications and use a variety of pen names to remain anonymous. No one would read them if they knew who wrote them. Duh!

Have a nice day

j/k 😎

A Resume is a Frightening Truth

I found this resume I wrote in 2012, and it definitely needed to be updated. 

(2025 Version)

                                                         

Life is about adapting from young to old

       

I was browsing the Internet, and I noticed an advertisement about how to improve your Résumé. It occurred to me that I have never written a Résumé. Surprisingly, none of the jobs I have applied for ever asked me for one. I just showed up and they hired me on the spot. I know it sounds strange, but it’s true.

Therefore, I decided to write my first Résumé! Unfortunately, I’m not quite sure what goes into one, and I’m too lazy to research the particulars. So, I’ll just jot down what I think is important and/or required.

 

Name: James Lee Charles Kafka

Marital Status: Currently married for 46 years, to the same woman, but subject to change at any moment.

Children: 4, and maybe a few more I don't know about.

Race: I race to the bathroom 16 times a day, and at least 6 times at night.   

DOB: Boomer

Current Occupation: Residential Lawn & Garden Superintendent, Housing Maintenance Supervisor, Sustenance Wrangler, Finance Clerk, Gutter Cleaning, Domestic Clothing Purifier, Part time Dishware and Utensil Sterilizer, Fixer of Broken Things, and for the past 15 years, Newsletter Editor for the Polish American War Veterans Club.    

 

Education: Kindergarten & Elementary School Graduate. I completed a 4 year, full-ride scholarship to High School. (Thanks mom and dad) My GPA was better than 58 other students out of 863, but I still received a diploma. I was recruited by the United States Air Force and I attended their 8 week physical and mental training course. I passed.  

 

Previous Employment: Paperboy – 2 years. Car Sander Apprentice – 3 months. Ice Chipper at the East St. Louis Railroad Stock Yard – one 8hr shift. United States Air Force – 12 years. Radio Disc Jockey – 1 year. High School baseball umpire – 12 years. Football Coach – 16 years. Professional Golf Instructor – 2 years. Golf Course manager and maintenance supervisor – 1 year. Grocery Store Stock Clerk – 8 days. Automotive parts delivery driver – 6 months. High School shop teacher (small engines) – 1 year. High School job placement coach for special needs children over the age of 16 – 1 year. Janitor – 6 months. Child Development Coordinator – 46 years and counting. (We have 4 children and 6 grandchildren, you never stop being a parent and you can’t get fired from the job either, no matter how hard you try.)

 

Higher Education: 60 day Modern Male-Female Behavioral Science class. (Dated my future wife) I passed. Male Commitment 101 (Got married). Human Creation 101, 201, 301, and 401 – graduated Summa Cum Laude, whatever that means. 

Human Behavioral Educator: Bathroom Training for Male Children, 101, 201, and 301. I failed the 401 class, because the female child didn’t respond to my male training techniques. 

Advanced Marriage Protocol Degree: PHD, with 46 years of practical experience.

Undocumented Education and Experience: Innovative Negotiating Advocate, (I defended my children in the principal’s office at least 150 times.)

Domestic Experience: Chauffer - Halloween make-up artist - Santa Claus impersonator - Tooth Fairy assistant - TV remote control operator - Spider, Mouse, and Cockroach exterminator – EMT practitioner of minor wounds – Finder of lost socks - and stay-at-home-dad. (My wife served for 30 years in the Air Force and 15 years Civil Service, so, I volunteered for the stay at home job.)

Hobbies: Coffee drinking, writing novels and short stories, reading classic and indie books, gambling, day-dreaming, TV watching, sleeping, peeing, laughing at the neighbor when she picks up her dog’s crap, and being the old man on the porch.

References: The 6pm Casino Bartender, my neighbor (maybe), and my wife. I’d list my 4 children and my 4 sisters, but they’d tell the truth about me. So, please don’t call any of them!

Contact Information: I’m normally at home, but never ever call before 11am. If you can’t reach me, call any Casino within a 50-mile radius.

Salary Expectations and Amenities: A minimum of $250,000 dollars a year, company car, personal bathroom, private office with at least 2 secretaries, full medical and dental coverage, and 13 weeks vacation time.

Based on my previous employment record and being mysteriously hired on the spot without a resume or previous employment experience; just let me know when I should start work. 

 

“Whatcha think, jimmy? Would you hire me?”

“Nope! You’re over qualified for just about every job out there.”

“I agree. Is it time for a nap?”

“Absolutely!”

I was born the wrong Kafka

Note: My dream job: fantasy adventure novelist. However, every publishing agent decided my manuscripts weren't right for them. So, I hired myself, I have to pay myself, set my own hours, and I have to pay someone to publish my manuscripts. I also have to do my own marketing, or I can pay someone to do it for me. This job sucks! If I don’t get fired soon, I’m gonna quit!

Perhaps, I am finally doing something that no one wants me to do and oddly, it just so happens to be the one thing I've always wanted to do.

I expect the asteroid to hit when I'm on the toilet.

It truly is a strange world, and it is for amusement only!

 

-jk-

 

 

 

Be the Ray of Hope

 

Frustration has been the air we breathe, melancholy our daily bread, and our desire for normality is the cup from which we drink. We watch and listen, as the acidic parasites, the pessimistic-persuaders, and the blood-sucking panhandlers of lies spread their seeds of destruction. They are the vast ocean of fault-finding organisms besieging the virtues we hold dear.

The monsters underneath our beds wait patiently in the shadows, the goblins in the closet are standing ready to launch their attacks, and the setting sun is the signal for the reoccurring, nocturnal nightmares lying in the crypt to rise again and torment our slumber.

In the morning, as the light of day comes forth, our anxieties and trepidations are again reborn and we, the unheard, stride quietly once more amid the multitude of eyes and ears who seek to devour our minds, our hearts, and our souls.

Be the Fearless Rainbow in a Dark Sky

But today, let it be the day we stand firm and give not another inch. Be resilient, fierce, and formidable. Be the foundation of benevolence. Crush the stones of hate by being the paradigm of kindness and understanding. Loot their minds with silent actions of humanity, win their hearts with gentle words, and save their souls with friendship.

It only takes one act of kindness to change the course of history.

 

This Week be the Purple Octopus of Hope or the Amber Rabbit of Sympathy

 

 Spreading Love to the World for a Better Tomorrow

-jk-