The snow had been falling for at least an hour. It was thick on the ground and thick in the sky and the pillow case clouds promised more. The wind caught every flurry and threw it back into the night, until it fell again. It clung to stringy strands of torn spiderweb and held on to the silvery thread. After a while, the snow slowed and fell, swaying from side to side until it rested on the ground and melted into tiny, sparkling pools that froze in an instant. Father Christmas looked out of the window.
“Damn,” he said.
It was Christmas Eve and Santa couldn’t get his front door open for the snow drifts that leaned against it. He couldn’t even sit down because his sofa was covered in presents. He took another look out of the window and thought of all of the children that would be waiting for their presents all over the world and he sighed.
He turned to Rudolph and stroked the reindeer’s soft nose, letting it nuzzle his bright red jacket.
“Well, Rudolph,” he said, “I guess it’s going to be a snow day for us.”