Yule Be Sorry: A Very Bite-Sized Xmas #18

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The first of the naughty woke up with a jolt

To the stomping of hooves and sounds that revolt.

“Santa?” they asked, near the end of life’s plan.

“SANTA IS DEAD. I AM THE RED MAN.”


This is part eighteen of a larger story for Christmas. All parts are in the form of a stanza of a poem. Check back tomorrow for part nineteen!

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