Asking for Directions

“This is the last time I listen to you, sis,” said the older sister.

“What are you mad at me for? This trip wasn’t my idea.”

“What? How is it my fault that you didn’t get your letter to Santa written and mailed?” she asked. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes.

The younger sister wasn’t paying attention. She just scanned the tundra, covered in snow as far as the eye could see in every direction.

Snow squeaked and scrunched under their shoes as they trudged on.

The older sister sniffled. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For getting us lost.”


“Yeah. We should’ve found it by now.” She shook her head, sending the tassel on the red hat bobbing drunkenly. “But, I can’t find Santa’s North Pole.”

“Oh, c’mon, Nora.” She patted her big sis on the arm. “Look, all we need to do is get one of Santa’s reindeer there to give us directions! It can’t be that hard!”

Image linked via The Write Prompts


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