Santa was having an existential crisis.

He stared at his egg-nog. He hated eggnog. Who on earth thought it’d be a good idea for him to drink that. Or milk! But that was the idea he was stuck with.

He sighed.

How on earth is he going to put his idea in the world? He… had never done that. Not consciously. Not…Ever…as far as he knew.

And it’s not that he didn’t have opportunities. People were distracted in stores, in kitchens, in greenhouses.

He just didn’t know how to get it over there.

Which was insane, if he thought about it. I mean – he was an idea. But he got over there.

Or…did he? He didn’t anymore. Did he ever? If all time is then/now/now… now then, was he ever not-here?

He picked up the idea bomb and stared at it.

He sighed. How did he get so small? He was rubbish.

He needed a holiday.

He needed to remember who he was.


Jan hated the stall at lunch time. It wasn’t even her stall!

She hated opening up in the morning because her friend was too lazy to get out of bed.

She hated that people never. Ever. Came to her place during lunch. In fact, most of the time she just stood there all morning. What on earth was she doing there? She was an art graduate, for god’s sake.

And as her mind wandered to the paintings she could be doing-


The stall sharded into cafe, right in front of Santa. The tomatoes right in front of him.

He stared. He had no idea what to do. Why did Simon wake up when he did!

He was amazed how much they looked like his idea bomb. About how they would completely disguise it. How the idea of it being one of a whole pile of ideas waiting to go off.

He picked up the tomato and pressed it into the shard.


Jan was pulled out of her reverie.

“Sorry? What was that love? It was the Lunchtime rush got me all confused.”


The stall pulled out.

Santa still held his idea in his hand. It didn’t work.


Ramona laughed. “Yeah. I can see that. Well, let me make your day. I’ve just moved into the place, and I want salad. And I’ll have everything – onions, peppers, potatoes, carrots. I’ll throw some apples in there, oh – and some tomatoes.”

Jan started filling her order.

“Can I grab the toms?” Ramona asked.


Ramona started around, picking up tomatoes, putting them in a bag. Then saw one with writing on it. She reached for it, grabbed it and


The Idea Bomb disappeared.


A light went off in Ramona’s head. She didn’t want to be there. The house wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted to be on vacation somewhere.


A tentacled face leant forward.


Ramona turned to Jan.

“You know what – you look like I feel. What are you doing here? You should be somewhere else.”

She handed the tomato over.

Jan’s eyes widened as she put the tomato in a bag.

“You know what? You’re right. I do.”


Santa couldn’t believe it. It worked. Just as Simon said it would!

He stood up to leave. All he had to do was –

A wet hand pressed into Santa’s shoulder.

“Now, now, Fat, Silly Man. Leaving would be a very, very bad idea. Why don’t you sit down so we can have a little chat.”

A faceful of tentacles twisted into a parody of a smile.


Today’s photo was supplied by Tine Sørensen

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