The Boy With the Santa Tattoo
Christmas Eve and in the dimmed street all the lamps were alight, alive and all seemed to breathe. Every child was a sleep part from one little boy, who had been eating sweets, playing with old toys. A rub on tattoo of a jolly man rested on his arm with rosy cheeks, blue eyes and a slightly cracked smile. Our hero will soon be this young boy in a world he has yet to discover but one we will shortly get to see. ‘What was the problem?’ Our young hero thought. ‘Have I drank so much milk that my belly wants to stay up and talk?’ Down below his bedroom there was an open fire, with crackling chestnuts, one that our young hero desired. ‘Just a few treats’, he thought. Maybe his stomach would stop its howls, with a few toasted chestnuts and some soothing toots from the clock shaped like an owl. Alas, just as he was about to wake up there was a crash, noise another noise followed a ratty tat tat. Lucky for him there was a sword was on the wall, h...