The Christmas Spirits


I cringed in the dark
As a terrible roar
Shook the house, now much louder
Than ever before

As my door was flung open
I balled up my fist
Even though I had no way
To really resist.

I swung a loose punch
In the hope I’d cause harm—
And the Doctor leapt back
In apparent alarm.

“What on earth are you doing?”
He clutched at his chin.
“It’s just me! Quickly now,
Hurry up and get in!”

The TARDIS sat flush
With my door, to prevent me
From seeing the monsters
That sought to gain entry

And once safe inside
And assured of salvation
I turned to the Doctor,
Whose new incarnation

Was shorter and stouter
Than those he succeeded,
His eyes, though, showed
Cunning to call on if needed.

“Well now,” he stated,
“I’ve all but run out
Of patience for all of
This running about.

Your touch wakes up ships
From an alien star;
I think it’s time we work out
What you are.”

I flinched at his words.
“What d’you mean, what I am?
Just a kid! You don’t need
Some stupid exam

To tell you. What else
Could I possibly be?!”
The Doctor leant forward
And smiled. “Let’s see.”

About Taskbaarchitect

Game Designer and Writer.
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