‘Is this tiny Santa all you stole? Tell the truth boy’, said the policeman looking at the boy. He looked of about 10 or 12, shabby clothes, unkempt hair, tears creating a neat path on his dirty face.
‘Why didn’t you steal some food instead? You look like you need it.’
‘I-It’s n-not for me sir’, the boy said between sobs. ‘It’s for my little brother, Ronnie. We live across the TV shop on the street. And all he is seeing is Santa on the TV, Santa bringing shiny presents, Santa listening to your wishes. He talks of nothing else. So, I thought of getting him one.’
‘Don’t you also want to meet Santa?’
‘Nah! Grown-ups know Santa is not real’, said the boy.
‘Ok. Keep the Santa and here, take this money and buy some food. Tell Ronnie, Santa will come to see him tonight.’
‘Mom was wrong. I always knew Santa was real!’, thought the boy. .
This story is written for Flash Friday