(miniflash story)

The diminutive girl was lost in the dazzling labyrinth of the Christmas fair. Her petite frame, dwarfed by the towering pines and the incandescent lights, seemed to shimmer with a magical glow. Dressed in a vibrant green and red ensemble, she went among the crowd, her laughter as light as a snowflake.

The scent of cinnamon and cloves, a comforting embrace, wafted through the air. A crimson cup, steaming with mulled wine, warmed her slender fingers. Her friends were near the ice ring. Those guys were struggling to buy tickets in the massive crowd of eager buyers. They laughed and jostled, their voices a playful cacophony that mingled with the festive music.

Suddenly, a deep, resonant voice boomed through the crowd. “Ho, ho, ho!” It was Santa Claus himself—or just the man in the red suit—a jolly figure in a plush red suit. But as he scanned the throng of elves, his gaze fell upon our tiny protagonist. Mistaking her for one of his helpers, he beckoned her towards him.

“Wow, not just a man in a meager masquerade,” she wonderingly whispered.

The girl, momentarily startled, recovered with a mischievous glint in her eye. She curtsied, a miniature ballerina, and followed him, her heart pounding with excitement.

“I believe you have me mistaken, kind sir,” she replied, her voice a soft whisper. “I’m merely a mortal, enjoying the festivities.”

The Santa, a bit perplexed, scratched his head. “Well, well, well,” he mused, “a tiny elf with a giant spirit. A delightful paradox, indeed.” And with a hearty laugh, he continued his rounds, leaving the petite elf to her merrymaking, not forgetting about a small Christmas gift for the diminutive girl.