Snow crunched beneath my torn boots. The hateful cold infected my flesh and blackened my fingers. Snow cascaded from the starless sky. The wind snarled as it punished my face. Max ambled beside me. Icicles protruded from his nostrils.
Max aimed his lantern ahead. “Roland!”
“What?” I said.
Max smiled. “Santa!”
“There’s nothing there,” I sighed.
Something was watching; it was as spiteful as the cold. I felt it. Something beyond the endless snowy mountains, ice caverns, and infinite darkness.
Took the C130 US jet to Labrador not the dog, left that one at home. I got shanghaied at Goode Bay; supposed to go to Sondestrom , ended up living underground or better yet, under snow tunneled between the Mess-hall and the personnel office where I worked. How close was I to the North Pole? Close enough for government work . Gambled paycheck. The Eskimo girl, she never rubbed noses but drank 2 point zip beer and actually got drunk. Hudson Bay Company was in happy Valley that’s where Santa elves really worked. I bought a leather jacket. Lost it or I gave it away to somebody who needed it more.. that was my life once upon a time. Never got to go on the Thule turnaround. Never got to see Greenland snowed in July saw a real white out. Had to follow a rope to get to the movie theater. If I let go, somebody might find my body next spring; so people have been told that is true. Santa Claus never came down chimneys. Sled dogs were plentiful. And then I return home to put stockings by the chimney with care and lit a fire to stay warm..
To seek the North Pole, follow the Northern Lights from New Hampshire into Quebec and onwards through Canada, all the way to Ellesmere Island, then over Greenland to Kaffeklubba Island. March northwards over the shifting ice until you find the place nobody owns, where time has no meaning, with months of sunshine followed by weeks of twilight followed by months of midnight, circling in an endless cycle. But beware, the pathways homeward are treacherous, for all future footsteps lead south.
The wind whistled through the wild woods, weaving a web of white in its wake. Snow storms started as small breaths, then swelling and spreading, not stopping until settling into the swirling Northern Lights.
The old elf gazed with satisfaction at the swirling winter white snow dancing with the bright lights overhead. The dance, familiar, yet ever changing, spoke to the whiskered man in red: "Time, time, time." Placing his finger aside his nose, he nodded, winked, and slipped away.
Some people might think it great fun to sell your soul to Santa. Clearly lots of people have already done that, though - consider all those elves, after all - slaving away like that! All year - for what? Conspicuous consumption! That's what! Capitalism!
John Lenin had it right when he sang that song. You know the one. Yeah - that one - when he sings about being a bottle of gin. 'I'm a gin!' he sang.
Then someone shot him.
And now the withered hand of John Lenin rests in a tomb in Red Square for all the people to gawp at.
Then there's Lenin Kravitz. But don't get me started on him. He's a bad, bad cat, that one...
...
Oh, whilst we're on the jolly consciousness train - here's a joke for you - why should you never sign a contract with a cat? Because of the hidden clause!
The heads of production gathered in panic. Operations were running full bore with only a week left ‘til the big day. The fat man in red adjusted his specs and looked down at the list he’d been handed.
“Just in from D.C. There we are, plain as day. ‘The North Pole’. This is much worse than being on any naughty list. This will kill us.”
“What list is that?” asked the elf CFO, late to the meeting.
Ouch, poor guy! Maybe he needs a new accountant, I would think those cookies and milk would count under the tax gift exclusion... though maybe he eats more than $18,000 worth?
Easy Floyd, set it down easy, we’re here!” Bellowed Admiral Byrd. The plane's compass danced in the magnetic field as the coordinates were recorded for posterity. The colors were struck, the American and National Geographic flags waved in the wind. A short distance away, a building came into sight, with a large bell tolling.
“Sir, I believe we strayed off course.” “Nonsense replied Byrd, we will never speak of this again, now finish your Mighty Taco.”
“Polar Madness”
Snow crunched beneath my torn boots. The hateful cold infected my flesh and blackened my fingers. Snow cascaded from the starless sky. The wind snarled as it punished my face. Max ambled beside me. Icicles protruded from his nostrils.
Max aimed his lantern ahead. “Roland!”
“What?” I said.
Max smiled. “Santa!”
“There’s nothing there,” I sighed.
Something was watching; it was as spiteful as the cold. I felt it. Something beyond the endless snowy mountains, ice caverns, and infinite darkness.
PROMPT: NORTH POLE
THE NORTH POLE
They’d been planning to visit Santa near The North Pole for ages, and the kids were so excited.
But as their train reached Germany and continued heading east, instead of north towards Finland, alarm bells started ringing.
And by the time they stopped, they were really panicking.
All they could see was open green spaces and gothic buildings, that went on for miles.
No winter wonderland.
They’d booked the wrong tickets.
This wasn’t The North Pole.
It was North Poland… 😎
“Where is it?” Jodie said.
“Where's what?” Dad responded.
“The North Pole! There's no pole.”
“It's a geological location. And because it is on ice, and is magnetic, it can move.”
Dad started his boring lectures.
Jodie was colder than she had ever been and all there was to see was ice and more ice.
She wished she'd not gone into default mode but had listened properly when Dad had suggested this year's Christmas bonding trip.
Maybe they typed too fast....
North pole
Took the C130 US jet to Labrador not the dog, left that one at home. I got shanghaied at Goode Bay; supposed to go to Sondestrom , ended up living underground or better yet, under snow tunneled between the Mess-hall and the personnel office where I worked. How close was I to the North Pole? Close enough for government work . Gambled paycheck. The Eskimo girl, she never rubbed noses but drank 2 point zip beer and actually got drunk. Hudson Bay Company was in happy Valley that’s where Santa elves really worked. I bought a leather jacket. Lost it or I gave it away to somebody who needed it more.. that was my life once upon a time. Never got to go on the Thule turnaround. Never got to see Greenland snowed in July saw a real white out. Had to follow a rope to get to the movie theater. If I let go, somebody might find my body next spring; so people have been told that is true. Santa Claus never came down chimneys. Sled dogs were plentiful. And then I return home to put stockings by the chimney with care and lit a fire to stay warm..
Microdosing - 80mg of North Pole
===
He was tired and distressed, and his friends blamed it on workplace burnout and sunshine deficit.
He enjoyed problem-solving, but he didn’t like doing it under pressure.
He was baffled when handed an instruction:
“Urgent! Deliver three wooden toys to the shipping crews before the end of the day. They stand by the port."
He wasn’t sure how much time he had, or how ‘urgent’ the delivery was.
The last day light in North Pole was a few months ago.
To seek the North Pole, follow the Northern Lights from New Hampshire into Quebec and onwards through Canada, all the way to Ellesmere Island, then over Greenland to Kaffeklubba Island. March northwards over the shifting ice until you find the place nobody owns, where time has no meaning, with months of sunshine followed by weeks of twilight followed by months of midnight, circling in an endless cycle. But beware, the pathways homeward are treacherous, for all future footsteps lead south.
80mg of North Pole
The wind whistled through the wild woods, weaving a web of white in its wake. Snow storms started as small breaths, then swelling and spreading, not stopping until settling into the swirling Northern Lights.
The old elf gazed with satisfaction at the swirling winter white snow dancing with the bright lights overhead. The dance, familiar, yet ever changing, spoke to the whiskered man in red: "Time, time, time." Placing his finger aside his nose, he nodded, winked, and slipped away.
"We have trouble!" Harry the elf said.
"Let me guess... polar bears ate one of your friends?" Santa said.
"No! Much worse. Come outside!"
Santa stood up and huffed and puffed down the hall, following the elf. Eventually they made it outside. Santa was shocked at the sight.
"There's no snow at all! The factories at the North Pole will all overheat, because we use snow to cool them down!"
"So, should we cancel Christmas?"
"We have to," Santa said.
Clever
Ha! The question is how do we get Mr. S. back where he belongs?
Some people might think it great fun to sell your soul to Santa. Clearly lots of people have already done that, though - consider all those elves, after all - slaving away like that! All year - for what? Conspicuous consumption! That's what! Capitalism!
John Lenin had it right when he sang that song. You know the one. Yeah - that one - when he sings about being a bottle of gin. 'I'm a gin!' he sang.
Then someone shot him.
And now the withered hand of John Lenin rests in a tomb in Red Square for all the people to gawp at.
Then there's Lenin Kravitz. But don't get me started on him. He's a bad, bad cat, that one...
...
Oh, whilst we're on the jolly consciousness train - here's a joke for you - why should you never sign a contract with a cat? Because of the hidden clause!
Hidden clause... 😂
They looked down at the compass, the blizzard obscuring everything beyond a few metres.
*Clang!*
“Christ, that hurt!”
“Wow. It’s an actual pole. Who knew?”
“Is it stuck?”
The hapless pair yanked at the structure, which could easily be mistaken for scaffolding. After a few tugs, it slid free.
“Shall we take it?”
“Shhhh! What’s that hissing noise?”
Earth would soon be nothing more than a wrinkled disc tumbling through space, having collapsed under its own mass in just a few short hours.
Oh I love this
Global deflation.
I nearly added that line!
lol
Oops.
Now that was a funny one! 😂
The heads of production gathered in panic. Operations were running full bore with only a week left ‘til the big day. The fat man in red adjusted his specs and looked down at the list he’d been handed.
“Just in from D.C. There we are, plain as day. ‘The North Pole’. This is much worse than being on any naughty list. This will kill us.”
“What list is that?” asked the elf CFO, late to the meeting.
Kringle sighed. “Tariffs.”
But I thought all the presents were tax deductible? 😁
Yes but I forgot they have to declare all those free cookies and milk he gets!
Ouch, poor guy! Maybe he needs a new accountant, I would think those cookies and milk would count under the tax gift exclusion... though maybe he eats more than $18,000 worth?
North Pole Thanks to MIGUEL S.
Easy Floyd, set it down easy, we’re here!” Bellowed Admiral Byrd. The plane's compass danced in the magnetic field as the coordinates were recorded for posterity. The colors were struck, the American and National Geographic flags waved in the wind. A short distance away, a building came into sight, with a large bell tolling.
“Sir, I believe we strayed off course.” “Nonsense replied Byrd, we will never speak of this again, now finish your Mighty Taco.”
HAHAHAHA
Exactly the reaction I hoped for!