A Selection of Quirky Holiday Stories (from Subscribers, Students and Friends)

Here is a hand-picked list of previously published holiday flashes.. Thank you for sharing them with me! If I’ve missed your story, please post a link to published holiday stories in the comments section.

Happy Holidays! Enjoy!

North pole Blue by Bob Thurber

Tangled Up by Louella Lester

Cafe Mozart Dreamin by Tracy Meloni

Sex in Siberia by Meg Pokrass

Christmas in July by Lorette C Luzajic

Baking by Meg Pokrass

Nana’s Fruitcake by Cheryl Snell

Egg and Pepper by Diane Gillette

God Jul! by Kathryn Silver Hajo

Life Would Be Perfect if My Teeth Were Like the Boss’s Boys by Jeff Harvey

Near Epiphany by Thomas O’Connell

Last Call at the Wreck Deck Bar by Guy Biederman

When the Family Came to Dine by Angela Fitzpatrick

For a Widow by Frances Gapper

The Unicorn’s Wife by Mileva Anastasiadou

That Tammy Girl by Melissa Fitzpatrick

The Light that Failed by Kathryn Kulpa

Simple Decoration by Bob Thurber

The Itch in Her by Francine Witte

Jack and Jill’s Final Adventure by Epiphany Ferrell

Re-Gift List (Not) by Valerie Fox

Inflatable Santas Lining the Block by Jessica Klimesh

All the Children Around the World by Jessica Klimesh

Ice by Dave Alcock

And finally, a story by Mikki Aronoff (originally published in Retreat West, no longer available online):

Kill a Tree

By Mikki Aronoff

It’s our first holiday visit as a couple to my mother’s. On the interstate, a jalopy with a bumper sticker, Kill a Tree for Christ, overtakes us. We hoot; neither of us believes. But Danish hubby C— expects paper hearts hanging on a candle-lit spruce and ris à l’amande. He’s brought his dead father along. Big C—’s knees press into our seatbacks. He keeps us awake through mind-numbing scenery grumbling and eulogizing his last Julefrokost meal of roast pork and caramelized potatoes, red cabbage, and aquavit. He belts Nu er det jul igen on repeat till we beg him to stop.

We arrive to a tree-free house. Our coats off and feet up, Mother lays the table, uncovers the casserole — Ta-da! She’s prepared our family favorite, stuffed grape leaves simmered over lamb bones. Little C— growls. There’s not an almond in sight. Big C—sulks and gurns, goes up in smoke. Clearly their needs for hygge haven’t been met. Little C— tries to let go, staggers into the cold. Mother looks stricken. This is the Christmas she will don a deep-sea diver’s helmet, never to remove it. I flick a napkin across my lap, tuck into lunch, suck on the bones.