The Christmas Spirits


The ship that I sprawled on
Felt spongy and cool,
Like the crash mats we had
Piled up at my school.

But the spot where I landed
Now seemed fully real
As if thickness and form
Had begun to congeal

And it spread, like an ink cloud
In some ancient sea
The ship was awakening
All thanks to me.

“Quick, Four! Grab my ankles!
And pass me your scarf!”
Five wrapped it in loops ‘round
His waist, then lowered half

And I leapt as it dangled
My fingers brushed past,
But I gritted my teeth and
Kept trying. At last

A furious leap
With the last of my strength
Saw me hauled through the air
On a frail fabric length.

I panted my thanks
To the Doctors and Sarah
Who sternly asked if I’d been
TRYING to scare her.

Then the ship down below,
Now solid as stone
Gave a rumbling sound
And the same wailing moan

That had haunted my nights
Filled the cave as a figure
Formed on the craft,
Growing bigger and bigger.

It was spindly; long legs
Round a large central mass.
Its skin billowed and flowed
Like dark smoke under glass

But the lights we had placed
Seemed to keep it at bay,
And the Doctors stepped forward.
Four spoke. “Ah. Good day!”

“I’m the Doctor. So’s he.
You’re a long way from home.
Now, why can’t you just leave
This poor boy alone?

What’s your interest in him?”
A dark crack split the shape,
A crude mouth opened wide
And one word spilled: “ES-CAAAAPE!”

About Taskbaarchitect

Game Designer and Writer.
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