Christmas of Muddle at Middle Night
As the clock ticked toward 9 p.m., and hundreds of letters fluttered into the quiet night, each one carrying wishes upon the wind. Nicholas, Santa Claus had been toiling over gingerbread houses, their sugary perfume swirling through the antique room. The space was adorned with an antique sofa, a grand clock, shelves filled with curious collections, and a bookshelf brimming with mythological tomes. He worked alongside a macaw and a white owl, their presence adding to the room’s enchantment.The world outside was still, like the peaceful rhythm of the cat's deep slumber. “But there was no rest for me. The children were waiting, their excitement shimmering like stars in the darkness.” “I had to hurry, and I couldn't let the muddle of the last-minute tasks slow me down.”—the time of Christmas called !