This was written for the Winter Holiday Contest 2023
Winter Holidays Story Contest 2023
, so please vote! Thank you!
"A Letter to Santa"
The North Pole was alive with yuletide cheer as December, the busiest month of the year, was nearing. The elves of Santa's workshop were in a festive frenzy, their laughter mingling with the jingle of bells and the sounds of toy-making. Amid this cheerful chaos, Noelle, the spirited and beautiful daughter of Santa Claus, chased the mischievous elf Tinsel.
Tinsel darted through the workshop with a grin as wide as a candy cane, waving a pair of green panties in a taunting fashion above his head. "No fair, Tinsel! Give those back!" Noelle called out with mock anger and laughter, her flowing chestnut hair shimmering under the twinkling lights.
The elf weaved under a ladder, sending a dusting of snow from the overhead decorations fluttering down like a mini blizzard. "You gotta catch me first, Noelle!" Tinsel's bell-adorned shoes jingled with each step, echoing through the candy-striped corridors.
The chase took them past smiling elves, some chuckling at the spectacle, others shaking their heads at the disruption. A few watched with lust for the boss's daughter and her hot young body. But Noelle was focused solely on her panty-thieving elf.
As Tinsel made a sharp turn down a dark hallway, Noelle saw her chance. With a burst of speed, she reached out, her fingers grazing the silky fabric just as she and Tinsel tumbled through a door, crashing into a room neither of them had ever seen.
With Noelle firmly on Tinsel, she quickly reclaimed her stolen underwear, oblivious to the boner forming in Tinsel's pants. Victorious, she stood up and did a teasing dance, shaking her ample booty his way. "You like that, Tinsel? I caught you and my underwear!"
He gulped and did not answer, but the mood shifted as Noelle's gaze adjusted to the dim light of this unknown room. It was unlike any in Santa's workshop, let alone the North Pole. It was lined with shelves bearing years and years of history. Most shelves were empty, but every few years, there was a letter, each marked with a red "X."
"Why are these here?" Noelle whispered with disbelief. She had always believed every letter sent to Santa was cherished, so why were these hidden away, marked, and secluded?
Tinsel, now more composed, stood up and adjusted his trousers. "I've heard the rumors of this room but never thought it was real. This is the room of unfulfilled wishes," he said solemnly. "Letters Santa couldn't answer."
Noelle moved between the shelves, her heart heavy with the thought of ungranted wishes. She reached the end of the row, her eyes drawn to a lone letter from the current year, addressed in clean handwriting to her father from Priya Singh at San Diego University.
Noelle carefully opened the letter, her mind swirling with questions about her father, the kind-hearted Santa she knew. As she unfolded the paper, the room seemed to hold its breath in anticipation.
"Noelle, we shouldn't be in here," Tinsel whispered urgently.
Noelle looked over at her best friend Tinsel, the elf that had been here for her, who she trusted more than anyone. He looked upset and wanted her to drop the letter and leave the room. However, she couldn't. Her eyes then fell to the first line, and she began to read.
^^^
Tucked away in a secluded corner of San Diego University's engineering lab, Priya Singh was a portrait of focus and determination. The sterile lab contrasted sharply with the festive atmosphere enveloping the rest of the campus. Here, amidst beakers and electrical equipment, Priya found her solace.
Clad in a bulky lab coat, Priya's outfit was purely functional. It also hid her voluptuous body. Her safety goggles, now perched atop her head, left faint impressions on her olive skin. Her long black hair was tied up in a ponytail haphazardly. She was the epitome of a woman lost in her work.
Her current project was a labor of love, a sophisticated sex toy designed by women for women. Version 2.0 lay before her, its sleek design a symbol of her ambition to bring joy and companionship to those who felt alone, much like herself. Despite the encouraging results of the prototype, creating a device that could truly understand and cater to a woman's needs was a challenge she relished. A challenge she felt she needed to defeat for her own sake.
As the day waned, Priya removed her lab coat, revealing a simple, worn sweater and baggy jeans underneath. She rubbed her eyes, the fatigue of hours of concentrated work setting in. Stepping out of the lab, she entered the university's bustling corridor and braced herself. Students moved around her in lively groups, their laughter, and chatter a constant reminder of her loneliness.
Ahead, she noticed a hot student from her Chemistry class, his easy smile and confident demeanor drawing her in. Gathering her courage, Priya quickened, a tentative "Hi" forming on her lips. But as she approached, he was swept away by a beautiful sorority girl.
Retreating to her dorm room, Priya was greeted by the stark contrast between her orderly space and her roommate Courtney's vibrant chaos. Her desk was a sanctuary of organization, with textbooks and papers neatly arranged, save for a single photograph of her family. It was taken the day she set off to university with her standing in front of her beaming parents next to her little brother Arjun in front of their home in India. As much as she loved her family, she always felt out of place with all its traditions. She wondered how they would celebrate Pongal during her upcoming holiday break, one of the few traditions she enjoyed.
Scanning Courtney's shelves, her eyes fell upon an unopened advent calendar. A new custom to her, it had Santa's jolly face beaming down. Beside it lay a childishly scrawled letter to Santa, asking for a pony.
The idea of writing to Santa Claus, the fat man at the North Pole who answered children's wishes by flying all over the world in a single night, seemed pretty silly. She was already an adult and a woman of science when she first learned about this childhood fantasy. Yet, something about the scrawled, heartfelt wish for a pony made her pause. Maybe, Priya thought, the point wasn't about believing in magic. Perhaps it was more about simply putting your wishes into words. It could be kind of freeing, in a way, to just write it all down.
With a deep sigh, Priya sat at her desk and pulled a blank notepad towards her. "Why not?" she mused to herself. Despite her logical mind scoffing at the idea, she was lonely, and desperation pushed her to embrace a childhood tradition foreign to her upbringing. Slowly, words began to flow from her pen.
Dear Santa,
I hope this letter finds you well. Writing to you feels surreal, as I never grew up with the tradition of Christmas. My childhood was rich with different customs and legends. The concept of a man delivering joy to children worldwide in a single night seems to fly against the face of everything I know as an Indian and a scientist.
This is my first letter to you, Santa. It's strange, penning my thoughts and hopes to a fictional character. But I find myself at a crossroads where I'm willing to try anything, even writing to the North Pole for help.