A Boy Called Christmas

by Matt Haig

Cloudberry wine, thought Nikolas as Joel pulled down a bottle that was hiding on the top of the kitchen cupboard. He didn’t know his father had any cloudberry wine. Fathers were mysteries.

“Elves never ever say that word.” He shook his head. “An impossibility is just a possibility you don’t understand yet…But

“To see something, you have to believe in it. Really believe. That’s the first elf rule. You can’t see something you don’t believe in. Now try your hardest and see if you can see what you have been looking for.”

The elves who live here were full of goodwill. But I kind of knew all along that goodwill is just another name for weakness. And goodwill comes from happiness, so I have tried very hard these last few weeks to increase unhappiness. Unhappiness is severely underrated, especially with elves.

In a world like that, it’s very easy to be bad. So when someone is good, or kind, it’s a magic in itself. It gives people hope. And hope is the most wonderful thing there is.”

“An impossibility is just a possibility you don’t understand yet,” he said, out loud.

Nikolas watched Anders’s bow and arrow aim higher as the reindeer pawed the sky, antlers silhouetted against the moon. “Don’t shoot him! Please! He’s my friend!” pleaded Nikolas. Joel looked at his son’s white thin face. Then he looked at his own left hand. At his half finger. “Life is pain,” he said, sadly. “But it’s also magic, Papa.”

To lose someone you love is the very worst thing in the world. It creates an invisible hole, and you feel you are falling down it and will never land. People you love make the world real and solid, and when they suddenly go away forever, nothing feels solid anymore.