Adventitious

By Robert Radnor

24 irreverent, amusing, heart breaking, Christmas themed short stories for the 24 days before Christmas.

Each story is like opening an advent calendar: you don't know what you're going to find, but you're sure to enjoy it.

Meet the Santa Monkeys, the Ghosts of Christmas Future, and a wandering star.

Discover what happened at the Bethlehem Arms, why there was plenty of gold but no frankincense or myrrh, and what it would be like if every day was Christmas Day.


Each story is dated from 1st to 24th December, and is like taking a shot of Christmas spirit.

Many of the stories happen to be located in Wales.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Sep 18, 2019
• ISBN: 9780244134082

Book preview

Adventitious

A D V E N T I T I O U S

24 Irreverent Short Stories

For The 24 Days Before Christmas

Robert Radnor

A D V E N T I T I O U S

Unplanned, unpremeditated, unintentional;

fortuitous, serendipitous, random;

unlooked-for, out of the blue, without warning.

Copyright © Robert Radnor 2019


Robert Radnor, whoever he is, or perhaps she is, has asserted his (or maybe her) right
under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.
The book is not to be sold or resold without the publisher’s express approval,
not to be unreasonably withheld, for sure, for sure. First printing 2019.


ISBN 978-0-244-13408-2

The Abbeycymhir Publishing Corporation 2019

Farmers, Llandeilo SA19 9DW

Website: www.abbeycymhirpublishing.com

December 1st The Santa Monkeys

Two monkeys, one wearing a Santa suit, the other a Santa hat and white beard, tumbled through the stratosphere, and finally landed, feet first, in Market Street, Llandeilo. They were hot - but not bothered - and ready for Christmas. The question was whether Llandeilo was ready for their Christmas message.

As monkeys go, Blunder and Dixem were not so much talkative as garrulous. That’s to say they talked and talked, then talked some more – to each other, to themselves, to other monkeys, and, even, to people – although they didn’t like talking to people because people tended not to listen because people tended to focus on the jaw-droppingness of monkeys actually being able to talk.

We will try, said Blunder.

We will, said Dixem.

It’s Christmas after all, and they deserve – nay need - to hear our message, said Blunder.

Hear it loud and clear – and heed it, said Dixem.

But they won’t, said Blunder.

No, they won’t, said Dixem.

But we will try, said Blunder.

We will, said Dixem.

Here goes, said Blunder.

Here goes, said Dixem.

The Ginhaus was busy as usual, but that counter, it’s just not made for altitudinally challenged Santa monkeys. Blunder ordered two cappuccinos, and Dixem ordered two hot croissants with ham and cheese.

When they had sipped their cappuccinos and taken a bite out of their croissants, they gave each other a look, and Blunder stood on her stool.

Ladies and gentlemen of Llandovery…

Brutal seconds later, they found themselves standing outside The Ginhaus, shivering. It had started to snow.

What did I say? asked Blunder plaintively.

I think we got the wrong Llan, said Dixem.

Well, aren’t all the Llans pretty much the same? That’s what I read anyway, said Blunder.

Most, said Dixem, but not Llandeilo. They think they’re a cut above. Let’s try again.

They marched hand-in-hand up Rhosmaen Street.

How much???? said Blunder looking in the window of Coffor Bach.

I know!!! said Dixem.

How long to wait for an appointment???? said Blunder passing the open door of Stiel.

I know!!! said Dixem.

What’s in there???? said Blunder looking at the closed door of Douglas Attire.

Who knows? said Dixem.

Right, said Blunder as they reached the top of the hill, and hoped it wasn’t going to be all downhill from here.

OK, folks, listen up, she said, standing in the middle of the street, "Santa wants to make a few changes. Streamline things a bit, so he’s sent us to tell you.

Firstly, Christmas Day is going to be on the last Sunday in December from now on. No more of this moving feast business. Secondly, gold and silver are banned – baubles, Christmas cards, credit cards. You name it. If it’s gold or silver, it’s banned. This is austerity, and Christmas goes grey from now on. Thirdly, alcohol…

But then a voice, rolling deep, marinated in centuries of Welsh culture and ale, shouted, somewhat forcefully:

No, you listen to me cos I‘ve got a message for you, and you better hear it good: don’t monkey around with Christmas, right?

December 2nd The Ghosts Of Christmas Future

It was, he thought, the first of what might turn out to be a 15, 20, even 25 year sentence. Already the ghosts were swirling around, fogging his memories, clogging his thinking arteries. And there was no way back. Of that he was certain – even if he wanted to, which he didn’t – most definitely didn’t.

So this was it, would be it. For the next 15, 20 Christmases.

He’d bought himself a turkey, a real, free range, fresh turkey – or, at least he was going to until he saw the size of even the smallest ones. He’d had to settle for chicken – with giblets, so there was proper cooking to be done, boiling their flavour out, making the gravy. Remembering not to put in the kidneys as they would overwhelm the flavour with that ammoniac…whatever it is.

Real veg too. None of this chopped up, ready to cook, pop it in the microwave veg. Lots of peeling, but he didn’t mind that – kept him busy, kept his mind off other things, other Christmases with…no, no he’d promised himself he wasn’t going there.

How was the time? Not too bad. Nearly 12 o’clock, and he still had cooking to do, and hadn’t opened any presents, not that there were many, and he hadn’t even turned on the tele. He’d been playing carols, of course. That’s what you did on Christmas morning - till you’d had too much of a good thing.

Three texts so far. Not bad. Not entirely forgotten. Not yet. And to be fair Ronnie and Dilys had invited