This was supposed to be my Friday post, but our internet keeps going out (we have a lot of ice here) so I am going to post it now just in case our internet goes out for a while. I don’t want to miss tomorrow’s deadline for posting my entry (plus tomorrow is Friday the 13th and you never know…).
The 3rd Annual Holiday Contest!!!
The contest is hosted by Susanna Leonard Hill! Check out all of the totally awesome entries by clicking HERE!
Now for the rules (taken from Ms. Hill’s blog) -
“Write a children’s story about a Holiday Mishap, mix-up, miscommunication, mistake, or potential disaster (a la Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer :)). Your story may be poetry or prose, silly or serious or sweet, religious or not, based on Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa or whatever you celebrate, but is not to exceed 350 words not counting the title”
I liked the idea of writing about a holiday mishap and really racked my brain on what to write because I wanted it to be different. Here is what I came up with (I am at 350 words!). I hope you like it!
CODE NAME: KRINGLE
Although the Christmas Eve air was frozen, a bead of sweat ran down the side of the pilot’s face. He delivered the package and slipped away, or so he thought.
“I’m getting too old for this,” he muttered. The pilot glanced behind him. He could see the outline of the jet formation closing in on his craft. “They keep trying to catch me in the act. They’ll have to try harder than that!”
“Sir, the aircraft have a lock on our position. You can’t make the next drop,” said the officer in front of the computer.
“Unacceptable!” boomed the pilot. “We’ll make every scheduled drop. We lost the Shenyang J-11s over China and we’ll out-run these jets too.”
The craft’s controls felt heavy in the pilot’s hands. Every year their tracking technology advanced greatly, but he had a dedicated team working day and night to make sure he stayed ahead. His missions depend on secrecy.
“Dash, tell Rudy to break formation. He can use his infrared beacon to distract those F-16s!”
“Roger that!” Dash barked.
“Sir, NORAD confirmed they are tracking us. We’re no longer a covert operation,” the officer worried.
“Contact our mole,” the pilot ordered. “She’ll feed NORAD false information. They’ll be chasing a flock of geese soon.”
The officer stuttered, “B-But, didn’t she –“
“Get run over by a reindeer?” The pilot interrupted. “Ha! That was just a cover. She faked her death to become our NORAD inside-agent.”
“I’m on it Sir,” said the officer as he typed an encrypted message.
The pilot watched a red light fly off to the South-West of his position. He smiled to himself when the F-16s followed. “Way to go Rudy! We’re going for our next drop. Get ready boys!”
“Sir, we just received a communication from Agent Grandma. She was successful. NORAD now has our current position somewhere over Indonesia,” the officer said with a grin that ran from pointy ear to pointy ear.
“Try to track me, will ya?!” Santa’s belly shook with laughter as he hollered with a twinkle in his eye. “HO HO HO! Maybe next year!”