Flash Fiction: The Christmas Power Glove

I could do anything with the Christmas Power Glove. Decorate trees, bake gingerbread cookies, send letters to Santa… inscribe my name on the moon. Woah, wait a minute, I’m letting this get to my head, it’s too much. I’m not saying I’m blaming him, but I had a bad feeling when the glove shot 10-foot streams of fire and melted the snowman someone had made behind my car on the driveway. His carrot nose looked like a burnt hot dog. I knew we weren't dealing with some ho-ho-homemade electronics projects, the Christmas Power Glove was bad, so bad. It made me feel like Fred Savage in The Wizard.

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2020, Goodbye, and Thanks for my Gaming Hermitage

What the delightful year 2020 was. I really can’t say enough for the levels of complexity and hardworking teamwork my community and the world have taken upon themselves to uphold themselves to the safety of their fellow man and the restoration of peace and order to a situation uncouth. That streamed from my hands like a biting witful shark attack but I actually kind of mean it in a wobbly but sincere way. It’s been bad, I know, real bad, but not all bad, just a little more bad and covering a broader spectrum of things to care about. I’ve accomplished more this year than I have in my whole life, although I do miss summer sidewalks and drive-thru impulse purchases.

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