A little Christmas weirdness…

Just settling down to dinner with my beloved, The Lovely Clare (hitherto known as TLC cos that’s what I get from her, oh bless, you may vomit now if you wish) when we hear Christmas music outside, blaring out at boy racer volume. We poke our heads out, to see an honest to goodness Santa sleigh on a carnival float, lit up like (ahem) a Christmas tree, chugging slowly down the road. Santa’s there, waving away, although there’s no-one really around to see him, much less lunge at his lap demanding a Robosapien.

That’s not the wierd bit though. We never see the float coming back up the road. And we don’t just live in a cul-de-sac. The end of our road is a literal dead end. Reading Cemetary sits at the bottom of it.

So, where did Santa go? And who was he delivering presents to?

I spend enough time reading these things. Time to contribute.

Hello. My name is Rob. I’m getting on for 38, and I live in Reading. I work for a film lab in the middle of London’s thrilling Soho district area. I write (there’s a link to my short fiction over on the left there), I draw occasionally. I make films. I even have an entry in the IMDB. I’m a music, movie and TV bore. You don’t want to get me started on comix. (note the anal attention to spelling there. I’m obsessed. It’s pitiful.)