It's the Holiday Blog Hop!!

Hosted by Megan Dolan-from This Post Will Self Destruct 

and Jenny Morris from Jenny's Imaginary World

Goal: Write a 250-word story about your favorite holiday. 

I picked Christmas because a) it's the best holiday ever and b) it's so filled with mythology, nobody will mind the addition of one more mythological Christmas creature.

Christmas Star

The strange thing about this Christmas morning isn't my bare feet in the snow.

It's the extra moon lingering in a pale gray sky.

The tiny crescent shape hangs below the actual moon, like a child's crib mobile. I even think I see it dangle a bit in the wind. But that can't be. There's no wind in space. My feet go numb as I stare. I should start moving again, finish my trek from the woodpile before breakfast. But I can't.

The crescent shape turns, its shape changing. Where the second moon once hung, a blob-shaped figure with a pointed head floats, staring back. The alien thing has noticed me noticing it. I stand still, reminded of my run-in with a bobcat last winter. On instinct, I let out a low, guttural growl.

The shape grows, zooms downward. I drop my firewood just as its translucent silver body halts five feet away. This is no bobcat. Its five points tremble: arms, legs, and a head where its face grins, dimpled like a baby.

It whistles. Logs fly through the air, zip through the open front door of my house. I watch in wonder, my feet burning in the snow.

I look back. The chubby star is gone from my porch, from the sky. The sun claws its way over the frozen mountains, and the moon fades away.

I look to the empty spot where my alien friend once floated. A smile breaks my chapped lips.

"Farewell, Christmas Star." 

Check out other 250-word stories about holidays, and get into the spirit:

1.	E.R. King	2.	Untroubled Kingdom
3.	Annalise Green	4.	Abby Fowers
5.	Angie Cothran	6.	Jolene Perry
7.	Jennifer Young	8.	Readin, Writing, and Lovin' It!
9.	An Author's Ramblings	10.	The Ubiquitous Perspective
11.	Deana Barnhart	12.	A Book, A Girl, A Journey
13.	Katrina Lantz -Author

Mock-Me Monday: My Worst Sci-Fi Short

Facetious flash fiction for Mock-Me Monday. Today we'll try science fiction.

Strung Out

The inter-galactic module under the astro-belt flickers with a faulty warning light, sending me into intermittent panic attacks. These, at least, are peppered with the auto-voice's soothing assurances.

"You are not in fatal peril. There is a 65% chance you will survive." It's amazing how much the sound of an almost-human voice can calm you even when you're on the brink of death.

My oxygen-deprived brain sends me back to orientation where Filriddle-bot and I laughed when the cyb-instructor played the assurances audio file just so we'd know what to expect.

"65% chance of survival?" I'd laughed. "That's supposed to be soothing?"

Filriddle-bot laughed with me, as she was programmed to do.

Now where was Filriddle-bot when I needed her most? Golfing with Jera's stupid leisure-bot, as though the fate of the universe didn't rest in their hands. If only I could reach the control panel! But the ship is too far. I'm going to die out here, tethered to the ship by a stupid miscalculation.

After five minutes of emergency breathing, a technique that supposedly increases my survival chances by 25%, I'm beginning to feel more than light-headed. Space is black already, but the stars around the edges of my vision begin to blacken now.

The last thing I hear as I lose consciousness is Filriddle-bot, shouting her golf score into my helmet-com.

"Fifty-two! I won!"

Six Sentences...endless fun

I just discovered the Six Sentences (6S) social network on ning.com. Tell your story in six sentences. I've done three 6S stories, and it's unexpectedly addicting.

My Page

http://sixsentences.ning.com/profile/KatrinaLantz

The Blog

http://sixsentences.blogspot.com/

Members are friendly and encouraging of each other. Superb online community!

Dumb Museums:

In retrospect, maybe I should have left that giant ruby where I found it. It didn't have a name on it or anything, but I should have known it belonged to somebody. After all, rubies that big don't polish themselves and settle into velvet cushioned pedestals.

On the other hand, putting something so valuable out in public as if it were a magazine rack....I mean, anybody could have made my mistake. The police didn't really need to be so rough.

Survival? Overrated.

She was the last person I would have picked to accompany me on my proverbial desert island.

All through middle school, she made my life miserable.

I was relieved when our tiny school flowed into the giant local high school, and I could become anonymous at last.

But she insisted on keeping in touch, moving to the same towns, going to the same university.

Now we were trapped in a basement bomb shelter, together with four toddling boys, my food storage, her kids' electronic toys--and not a coconut in sight.

When the basement hatch was axed open on day 57, I didn't care if our discoverers spoke Russian, Chinese, or American...as long as they didn't have batteries for her sons' Tickle Me Elmo.

Astral Break

One moment, he stood above his body, anchored by nothing but a silver strand of light. The next, he vaulted through space, completely detached. What went wrong? He remembered what the guru had said: "Focus on that connection until the astral cord becomes thin and pliable." Great, I'll never get to date the guru's niece now.

Well, now I'm off to work on Drats! Foiled Again! I could write sixes all day, but my novels aren't going to write themselves. I hope you enjoy the 6S network as much as I have.