8thdayfiction

…and on the 8th day, micro fiction was published on some dude's blog.

Merry Christmas, Everyone!

“NOOO!”

Ebenezer Scrooge sat bolt upright in bed, finally jolted out of the most horrific nightmare.

He looked around. He was awake. Alive. And it was a bright sunny morning.

He threw his covers off, jumped out of bed, and ran downstairs, bursting through his front door to greet the townspeople.

“MERRY CHRISTMAS! MERRY CHRISTMAS, everyone! MERRY CHRISTMAS!”

He ran down the street, beaming, shaking hands and hugging and offering warm holiday greetings to everyone he met.

“MERRY CHRISTMAS! MERR–”

Mr. Scrooge!” came a gruff voice from behind him. Scrooge stopped mid-hug and turned towards it.

“Mr. Scrooge, it’s only Christmas Eve. It’s not Christmas quite yet.” The man looked him up and down. “And for God’s sake, get some pants on.” The man turned and walked away, shaking his head.

Ebenezer Scrooge looked down at himself and felt his head. He was still in his nightshirt and cap. He looked at his feet planted in the snow and all of a sudden realized they were freezing.

He trudged home, head down, shivering and embarrassed, saying to himself under his breath “Well, that settles it, Scrooge ol’ boy: No more absinthe before bed, eh?”

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