As I rifle around in the sack, the north wind brings snow in through the open window. I chuck wrapped boxes out of my only exit at random. But it seems impossible to deplete the supply. The room is plastered in tinsel and lights, a fire burns bright in the corner. I am a shadow, clad in black, my dark hair matching in contrast to the festive setting. The obnoxious model of St Nicholas smiles at me from the corner. I begin to drop lumps of coal in the absence of the gifts.
They call me The Dreaded Present Snatcher...
by Bonnie Moncur (12)
Danesfield CE School, Taunton
Competition - Once Upon a Time
Copyright remains with the author.