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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2102179
Rated: E · Short Story · Holiday · #2102179
Elf on a Shelf.
I'm an elf on a shelf; what's so scary about that? Every time someone enters the room and sees me, they scream and run away. Do you realize how annoying that is? How can I relax and enjoy the season with all the running and screaming?

I didn't know how to resolve this problem, so I wrote a letter to Santa. His response was not very encouraging. He said, “Running and screaming is normal for Christmas time.”

I don't see anything “normal” about it. Give me abnormal, please.

* * *

I'm super excited; I'm off the shelf – I got a job as a greeter in a store. I'm going to get to see the outside world for the first time ever. I'm beyond excited.



I think I survived my first day at work. I'm still checking all my parts to see if I'm all together. I'm still recovering from that moment the store opened and a flood of humanity crashed into the store and overwhelmed every department. I really did try to greet people, but for the most part, I was ignored as they pushed and shoved to be the first to sit on Santa's lap.

I thought that lap was only for kids. I was way wrong on that, and the parents weren't asking for “peace on Earth.” No they wanted a “piece of the Earth, sky, and universe,” and they wanted it now, and the kids imitated the parents very well.

I was mostly ignored, and I felt like an elf on a shelf again. But one small child came to me and said, “Are you real?”

“Nah, I'm just imaginary,” I replied.

She giggled and said, “You're funny.”

“Glad you think so. I'm just trying to make a living here.”

“Why?”

“Because when you get off the shelf that's what you gotta do. Sorry, gotta go, I have another customer to greet.”

And the rest of my day was super boring as I stood there and greeted people who mostly ignored me. At the end of the day, the manager said, “Come back tomorrow and do it again.”

When I returned home, I got back on the shelf. Being an elf on a shelf was not so bad after all.


371 words
© Copyright 2016 Paul ~ D (pdmarques at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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