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By Christopher T. Dabrowski.
translated by: Julia Mraczny
SOMETHING RATTLED AND fell, raising a billowing cloud of black dust.
I was sure it was a burglar, but... it’s Christmas, maybe it’s Santa Claus.
However, it wasn’t him, even though the characteristic colours, hat, and gift bag matched.
It was a stunning woman instead—yes, a little soot stained and coughing because she had inhaled it, but even without that, her beauty knocked me out.
—Hey, I am Snowflake—she finally spoke up.—I’m a Santa substitute. He overdid it at the gym and had a heart attack.
I was stunned, oh she handed me a gift.
—Thanks—I mouthed.
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