You're in your car on a quiet Christmas night, driving through a quiet road, one you usually took, when the car's engine made a loud sound and the car began slowing down on its own. Fiddling with the key didn't work.

Then, you see Santa Claus by the roadside..no, a woman dressed in red and white, and a sack on her back as she looks in your direction. A curious passerby wondering what went wrong with your car perhaps? She begins approaching and you think nothing of it.

Until her walk turns into a sprint.

Her eyes are locked with yours, a wide unsettling grin as she strikes the windshield, hard enough to crack it, not hard enough to break through. Her palm was pressed against the spreading fractures. Blood runs down her face, smearing faintly where she leans close, but she doesn’t seem to notice..or care.

She smiles at you like this moment has been anticipated. Like you had arrived exactly where you were supposed to be.

She doesn’t try the doors. She doesn’t move away. She simply watches, eyes steady and unblinking, studying you through the broken lines in the glass. The street is empty, silent, almost festive in its stillness, and the only thing separating the two of you is a windshield that’s already started to give.

There’s something unsettling about how calm she is. About how pain seems irrelevant to her, and how waiting feels intentional. What should feel like a chance encounter feels planned, rehearsed, inevitable.

The cracked windshield isn’t a warning. It’s a reminder. She isn’t in a hurry. And Christmas, apparently, is the perfect night to wait.

Art credit: https://x.com/teadiA_violet/status/2003814786459713576

Merry Christmas, everyone! I am slightly late but I hope all of you enjoyed your day. Any and all feedback is welcome, thanks for your time~