Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

Letter to Santa Claus

Dear Santa,

I'm almost ashamed and embarrassed to be writing this letter to you. I have so rarely asked for anything, and now that I have a request to make, I'm not entirely sure it's within your power to grant my Christmas wish. But if anyone can, it's you.

Santa, have you ever loved someone so deeply that it hurts, like a thousand pound weight pressing down on your chest, suffocating you? That is how I feel about my husband. He is a good man, a compassionate man, a man of great tenderness, and I have loved him my whole life - I loved him even before I met him.

But lately he has been so distant. Our eyes rarely meet over a cup of coffee in the morning, and when he returns home at night he is so tired his eyes are barely open at all. And here I am, left with only a memory of what once was.

It will do no good for you to tell me that my husband still loves me. I know that. On those rare occasions when our eyes do meet I see the love still there, and I feel it in the way his lips press against my cheek. I know he still loves me.

But all his days are filled with his work and his philanthropy, and when it is all said and done, there is little room left for me.

I honestly believe, if he found me homeless and destitute on the street, and next to me a complete stranger in the same condition, it is the stranger he would take home and feed first. Not that he loves me less, but that I have become such a fixture, such a predictable and constant part of his life that he hardly even sees me any more, his gaze just slides over and past me.

Santa, I ask only one thing this Christmas, and if it is not in your power to grant it, I will understand. All I want is to have a few hours of uninterrupted quality time alone with my husband on Christmas.

I love you darling,
Mrs. Claus

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