October 25th: A Newsletter

In the tenth month of Christmas...

• Letter from the Editor

• Just Some Harmless Christmas Photos

• “The Twelve Months of Christmas” Chapter Ten

• Christmas Puzzle to Make You Go fdxgfchgvjhbj

Just Some Nice Christmas Photos (harmless and not upsetting)

Courtesy of Julie Swanson

Oh, go find your own stupid recipe.

"The Twelve Months of Christmas"

by Kafryn Swargyn

***

Chapter Ten:  Ten Lords A-Leaping

As is the case in the majority of your waking life, you are currently upset. But not so upset that you can't for a moment appreciate the ruffles of the dress you've just been shoved into. In the comfort of your own home, with no one around to witness it but your cat, you would enjoy prancing about in this. Don't bother denying it. Besides, it's red. You look ravishing in red. You wince as Noella sticks another pin in your hair to secure a shimmery gold bow. Noella seems to be the least flouncy of the lady-dancing lot. Tolerable, you suppose. 

The other ladies lost interest in you after a little while. True, one of them did recognize you from who knows where. From a comment she made, you guess she got your description from the Caroller and was simply helping the plot along. But no matter. You are alone except for Noella. She leads you to a large standing mirror to admire yourself. Somehow, she's managed to make you look... cute? Like, not exhausted. That in itself is a Christmas miracle. Oh, I saw that whisper of a grin. You can't hide from me. 

"So, what's the point of this?" you ask in a voice more pleasant than you intended. Good lard, those ruffles are just magnificent!

"Oh, you know."

"Nope."

She smiles at your enjoyment. You're really bad at disguising it. "You may have noticed downstairs. In the ballroom. There were some lords  - they claim to be leaping but I think a few of them are just tripping over their own feet."

"I didn't get a good look at the people before you shuffled me off."

"Yes, well. There are ten lords a-leaping. And only nine ladies dancing. So, you are now lady number ten."

You stop mid-twirl. "Does that mean I have to dance?"

"Yep! You'll be delightful!"

"I... don't want to do that."

She gives you the shut up, you're obviously lying face and grabs your arm. 

By the time she shoves you back through the ballroom doors, your face is nearly as red as your ruffles - those shiny, shimmery, aggravatingly delightful ruffles. You sense a pair of eyes on you. The only lord not a-leaping catches your gaze. And winks. Your panic is immediate, but alas your escape is impossible. So many people dancing and leaping and carrying sharp sugary weapons in every direction, and they've all conspired to move you away from the doors. Truth be told, there are rather more than eighteen lords and ladies present - dozens of others fill the huge room. People of lower rank come to dance their own jigs, mingle, stuff their faces with free Christmas pie. Noella, fiend that she is has zipped away to join one of the lords for the next song. And the One Who Winked is walking your direction. 

In fact, he's right beside you. "Ahem."

"If I don't move," you mutter, "you cannot see me."

He nods. "I'm sure that's true. But I'm afraid your lips did move while you said that."

You deflate a little. "Meaning I have no escape."

"I sincerely apologize for my functioning eyes."

It is at this moment you make the distressing discovery that besides winking, he can also smirk. 

"Yeah, well, how about you just go die." 

If anything, that makes him smirk harder. And with a head tilt. OH NO HE HAS DIMPLES. 

There are a multitude of upsetting things in any world. Being held captive by a lunatic who is obsessed with your least favorite holiday and who maybe has some sort of magical powers (unclear) is up there. But being approached by an inhabitant of the lunatic's horrible, terrible, no good, very bad queendom and discovering that they are even the slightest bit cute - that is nightmare fuel. Even in the normal world, where you're a normal young person, with a normal amount of social interaction (normal, meaning like, low to middling), a smirking, winking, DIMPLED person your own age, speaking real human words to you specifically, would be enough to put you on edge. You really want to leave. 

"That's quite a dress."

"Huh? Oh. Uh, yes. It is a dress."

"Bet it's great for twirling."

You really want to hate everything that's happening right now. But he's right. 

"It's SO good for twirling! Look!"

He laughs and takes your hand as you spin. Next thing you know, you're in the middle of the room, dancing with perfect ease to a song you don't remember hearing before. And what's that strange sound - oh no. You're laughing too.

To be continued....

A Holiday Puzzle Just for You!

Courtesy of puzzles-to-print.com because, no, I could not be bothered.