Hubert’s existence sucks. It’s not a pleasant reality on an average day, but now he’s trapped in a cell below ground, and he’s hungry enough to fantasise about drinking his own blood—foul as it is. But being trapped and starving isn’t all, though. Just as he thought things couldn’t get any worse, Frank, his Maker, decides he is to dress up as Santa and work the nights in a shopping centre.
All Hubert wants to do is eat, Frank says he can’t, but being Santa provides him with a never ending supply of appetising children. Surely, having a taste wouldn’t be that terrible. What’s the worst that can happen?
A.M. Alley—writer of coffee-break-sized fiction
A.M. Alley is an introvert living deep in the Swedish woods. She spends most of her day staring at the computer screen and dreaming up characters. Placing her writing in a particular genre is hard, though most of her stories lean towards the dark side and they’re always short.
She likes the challenge of telling a story in just a few pages and has had some of her works published in a Canadian flash fiction magazine.
When she isn’t caught up in her writing, she is spending time with her husband, their four kids, three cats, one dog, and a various number of fishes.