Flash Fiction: Not Santa Claus

I saw mummy kissing Santa Claus. I did. Well, not Santa, but some fat bearded dude, who wasn’t my dad…

It wasn’t a Christmas night. I was just a little boy and I had been tucked into bed by my mum and dad. I had awoken in the night to visit the washroom. I was walking past my parent’s bedroom when I decided to peek inside. It was kind of dark, but to my shock, I saw the act with my eyes. The man looked like Santa Claus, complete with a long white beard and the red overalls. I could not spot my dad in the room. I was too shocked to say anything and I went back to my room. I never spoke about it, but I remembered.

Many years later, during a particularly boozy lunch with my parents, the discussion had taken a christmas turn. Encouraged by my buzz, I blurted out what I had seen as a kid. I saw my mother’s eyes widen in shock and a wide grin appear on dad’s face.

That day I learnt about mum’s Santa fetish…


Word Count: 185

Prompt given by Ritu Bhatal as a part of the FTS Project 2.0

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