older than sin, and his beard could grow no whiter. He wanted to die.
the dwarfish natives of the arctic caverns did not speak his language, but conversed in their own, twittering tongue, conducted incomprehensible rituals, when they were not actually working in the factories.
Once every year they forced him, sobbing and protesting, into Endless Night. During the journey he would stand near every child in the world, leave one of the dwarves’ invisible gifts by its bedside. The children slept, frozen in time.
He envied Prometheus and Loki, Sisyphus and Judas. His punishment was harsher.
–Neil Gaiman, from his collection Angels and Visitations
Just a little happy christmas note from one of my favorite authors!
One reply on “Nicholas was…”
[…] posted the text to this very short story way back in
2003. Merry Christmas! Here’s 39 Degrees
North’s adaptation of a wonderful poem by the