Drawing inspiration from storytelling and Classic Christmas poetry, infuse it with your unique flair. Choose a prompt and craft a poem or story that incorporates it. Retell or spin an entirely new narrative, the choice is yours.

➤ Your Story must be complete and not more than 2000 words. In case of poetry, your poem must not exceed 15 lines.

➤ The Contest will run from December 1st to December 31st, 2023.

Entries must be submitted no later than December 31st, 11:59pm EST.

Prompt: 1. ❝And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself...❞
~ A Visit from St. Nicholas (also known as The Night Before Christmas) by Clement Clarke Moore.

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"Did you hear me, Martin? Marge and Ben are having a Christmas Eve party, and we've been asked to bring crackers."

"Christmas Eve? That's when I do my wrapping."

"Well, as exciting as that sounds, there's only you and me, so how much wrapping can you have?"

"It's just when I like to do it. I don't want to be all dressed and out until who knows when. I like a quiet Christmas Eve. Besides, crackers are for Christmas dinner."

"Don't be an old poop. They're going to have a Santa Claus."

"What the heck for? It's all adults, isn't it?"

"It's a member of their community social group. He's going to all the houses in that area that have kids."

"Swell. I can't wait."

"All your golf buddies will be there."

"Oh yeah? Hmmm . . . I could collect that last game wager from Tom."

"That's the Christmas spirit, dear."

******

"Hey! Merry Christmas, c'mon in. Hold it Betty, that's mistletoe you're under. Did you bring the crackers?"

"Enough to start a revolution. Here, you take the carton, I want a drink."

"Betty, Martin! Wonderful. Did you bring the crackers? Take your coats right through to the bedroom."

"Your tree looks magnif, Marge."

"Same one as last year, just new lights."

"Look who's here! Duffer Downes. You ask Santa for golf balls?"

"Says the guy whose scorecard caught fire from rubbing out entries."

"No golf talk, you two, this is Christmas Eve. Here's your drink, Martin."

"Thanks, Ben. Cheers everybody."

"Grab a paper plate everyone, the appetizers are ready. Ben go out and help the women in the kitchen."

"Doing what, Marge? I'm making drinks for the guys."

"I think they're quite capable, dear."

"Oh, and the women aren't."

"Ben."

******

"These are delicious, Marge."

"Thank Grace and Emily, they are their creations."

"So good, you two Recipes later?"

"Just what we need."

"I would definitely make these, Alf, and use a coaster for that drink."

"Yeah, Alf, you're not at home."

"Funny, Baker. Home is one big coaster."

"Whoops! "Tis the season, and all that, Alf."

"Pass that tray, please, Kate?"

"Try the little round ones, they're to die for."

"You never gave me one of those."

"Tom has better taste - and I did mention a coaster."

"I'll save you one. Thanks, Kate."

"Hey, Tom, is it true they've got a Santa Claus coming?"

"Yeah. All the houses with kids."

"Kinda late isn't it? Shouldn't they all be in bed dreaming of sugar plums?"

"That's a little old school, Martin. Ben was saying the kid's been on holiday high all day. Had to put the gifts in the trunk of the car to keep him from finding them."

"If it's Kenny you're asking about, he's in bed. Poor kid was so excited he wore himself out and fell asleep at supper."

"What about this Santa Claus business, Ben?"

"I called our visit off. I don't want to wake him again. I even have a suit upstairs, because I was going to help before Marge planned this party."

******

Crack! Snap! Pop!

"C'mon, everyone has to wear the hat from the crackers, no shirkers now."

"Brian's doesn't fit."

"Doesn't surprise me."

"John! That's mean. Tell him you're sorry."

"Sorry it doesn't fit, Brian."

"Hah, hah. I've probably got yours."

"Oh, I got a keychain! Look, Hon, it has a place for ID."

"I got a thimble, wanna trade?"

"What did you get Betty?"

"A tiny travel sewing kit."

"You'll need a thimble."

"Oh, I couldn't, Gordon, it's too valuable."

"True. It's probably collectable."

"What's Fred doing? Hey, Fred, you're supposed to pull the damn thing, not do a postmortem."

"Emily doesn't like the noise."

******

"Where are you going, Martin?"

"I need the facilities, Betty."

"Upstairs at the end of the hall."

"Thanks."

"Are you feeling alright, dear?"

"Yeah, just nature calling."

******

Wow, Ben, you've done a lot of renovating. Glass shower doors, low flow toilet. And the mirror covers the whole wall. If Betty sees this I'll be pestered for ages. 

Martin, you look like hell. Smile. Ugh - frightening.

I like this soap dispenser, that would be a good addition. What's that?

"Hello, Mr. Downes."

"Kenny, you should be in bed sleeping. Did we wake you up?"

"No. I wanted to see if Santa came."

"He won't come while you're awake. Nobody really sees him."

"Well, how do they know what he looks like? His picture is everywhere."

"Yeah . . . well, I meant nobody sees him when he's delivering presents. He's really busy then and everybody would just slow him down. You wouldn't want him not be able to come, would you?"

"Gosh, no."

"What's wrong, Kenny?"

"I don't want to be on his naughty list."

"Oh. have you been naughty?"

"Mom says naughty means bad."

"So, have you been bad?"

"Maybe . . . sometimes."

"I think Santa knows little boys can't be good - nice - all the time. I bet even his elves sometimes misbehave."

"What does he do to them?"

"Uh- I don't- I'm sure whatever it is, they learn to behave again. Let's get you back in bed and to sleep, so he can come to your house"

"What about all the people downstairs?"

"Oh- we'll all be going home soon. We have to be asleep too if we want him to come to our places."

******

"There you go. You want your rabbit in bed with you?"

"It's a kangaroo, Mr. Downes."

"Is it? A kangaroo. Okay. Do you want it?"

"Yes, please. His name is Rooney."

"Alright then, goodnight, Rooney, and goodnight to you, Kenny."

"Goodnight, Mr. Downes. You won't stay too long, will you?"

"Hah- no, Kenny, I want to go to bed too. You want the door shut?"

"No. I want to see if I can hear him come."

"Okay, but try and go to sleep. Morning will come faster if you do."

Hah, takes me back. Christmas really is for kids. The mystery, the magic, the excitement. Not really the same without them.

******

"Where have you been, Martin? Are you sure you're alright?"

"Kenny got up and I put him back to bed."

"You didn't wake him did you?"

"No, dear. He's just too excited to sleep."

"Too bad. Ben cancelled Santa's visit."

"Yeah . . ."

"What?"

"Nothing. Do you want another drink?"

"No, Marge has a game she wants us all to play. It's called sardines. One person is chosen to hide, then they turn out all the lights and rest hunt. If you find them, you hide with them, and so on until everyone has found them."

"That's nuts."

"No, it can be great fun. Imagine hiding in the bathtub, or under the sink."

"That's like college kids filling Volkswagens or phone booths."

"Don't be so stuffy."

"Alright everyone. Gordon has been picked to hide, so everyone shut their eyes. Okay, Gordon, turn out the lights and go and hide. Time's up. Now just be careful of the furniture and everything. And no pairing up."

******

I know one place they won't look - Kenny's room. If I can just find it again without bumping into someone, I can sit out this dumb game in peace and quiet. Oops, someone coming. I'll duck in here. This is Marge and Ben's bedroom. Hope Betty doesn't come looking here.

What's this - oh, it must be the Santa suit Ben mentioned. Oh, hey, have I got an idea.

******

"Ho, ho, ho."

"Wha- who's there? DAD!"

"Shhh - hush, Kenny. It's Santa Claus."

"Santa!"

"Yes. But you have to be quiet. I don't do this for all the boys and girls."

"Can I turn on my little bed light?"

"Certainly."

"It really is you! You look just like your pictures . . . except you have dark eyebrows."

"Yes, well- some chimney soot. What's important, Kenny, is that Santa's here to tell you that you are on my nice list."

"Oh, boy! Does that mean I get my ride on, 36volt extreme drift, radio flyer, go-kart?"

"Huh?"

"I sent you a picture in my letter."

"Your letter . . . right. Well, Mrs. Claus handles all the North Pole mail, Santa just sees that it gets to the right house."

"So will I get it? You said I was nice."

"Well I'm sure the elves have done their very best what with supply chain interruptions and uhm- availability. You should go back to sleep now so Santa can get his work done. Morning isn't far away. Will you do that for Santa, Kenny?"

"I hear my mom coming."

"Quick, turn out your light."

******

"Kenny? Did mommy hear you talking in here? You should be asleep or Santa won't come."

"Yes he will. I just know it."

"Hush now, you go to sleep. I'm going to shut your door."

"Okay."

******

"That was close, Kenny. Santa's too old for close calls."

"That's okay, Santa Claus will be just fine . . . Mr. Downes, and thank you."

He knew! The kid knew! Damn, he actually had me going.

"It was the eyebrows, wasn't it?"

"No, sir - it was your pants and shoes. They aren't his."

"You got me, Kenny. And I bet he'll be wearing them tonight when he comes down your chimney. Goodnight, son."

Imagine. Sharp little kid. Now to get out of this oven of a getup before the others see me. The bathroom should be safe.

******

"Martin! What the hell . . .?"

"Ben. Geez, look, I'm sorry I- I was trying to give Kenny a surprise . . . you've got the pants and boots on."

"Yes! And I've been going nuts wondering what happened to the rest of the outfit. Look at this! A red bath towel, and Marge's shower cap with a pom-pom stuck on top! You think he'll buy that?"

"The gauze beard is a nice touch."

And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself...