[ WP ] Your belief in Santa was crushed when you were a child . Now , as an adult one lonely Christmas Eve , you come face-to-face with the mythical man himself .

It had been a long time since I believed in Santa Claus. Long enough that I do n't really remember a time I did, a time when I slept restless waiting for what wonders he might bring. No, that illusion was dispelled early, by parents too careless, or perhaps less optimistically too lazy, to maintain it. 
 
 And yet, here I am. It was meant to be no different than any other night at The Broken Dam, a quiet beer, an even quieter whiskey, and off to home. I had hoped it would be quieter here, with Sam's notorious hatred of holidays, festivities, and happiness in general. Yet there he was, red suit and all, quietly sipping what I assumed was a White Russian but smelled strongly of eggnog. 
 
 `` You're staring Jack.'' He said, although I could have sworn he had n't looked my way since he sat down. `` It's rude, you know.'' 
 
 `` Oh, uh, yeah, sorry.'' I went back to my drink, too startled to notice that he knew my name. 
 
 `` Do n't worry about it too much.'' He went on, between sips of his drink. `` It happens sometimes. It's the clothes, I suspect.'' 
 
 `` Yeah, I guess so.'' 
 
 We both sat quietly, until he broke the silence. 
 
 `` Name's Nic. Well, at least that's what you can call me.'' 
 
 `` Jack. Nice to meet you, Nic.'' I nodded towards him, and was surprised to see he'd already finished one drink and was calling Sam over for a second. 
 
 `` Likewise.'' He took a gulp, seeming vaguely satisfied in a somewhat tired way. 
 
 `` Quiet night tonight, is n't it Nic.'' The bar had been empty when I walked in, and it little had changed. I think Sam only opened it as a strange act of defiance. 
 
 `` For now, yes, for now. You know how Christmas can be for me after all.'' 
 
 I smiled despite myself. I always appreciate when someone commits to their role. `` Sure do Nic. Ca n't be easy.'' 
 
 `` I never asked for it Jack, never did.'' He seemed to be almost speaking to his drink more than to me. `` Used to be just a small route, doing small gifts. Nothing major. Nowadays there's houses worldwide, and the gifts! Gone are the days when a bit of woodworking and a quick stop by the coal shop would see me through. It's all changed Jack, all changed.'' 
 
 `` You ever miss one, then?'' I said, or perhaps that was the whiskey now. `` There must be millions.'' 
 
 `` Hundreds of millions Jack my boy, hundreds of millions. Most do n't even have the courtesy of a decent fireplace anymore! And still, I've never missed one. Not one.'' He seemed proud of that, for a man wearing a costume. `` Never. If a child believed, then I was there. That's my job.'' 
 
 `` I guess that was the problem then.'' I stared down at my whiskey, now almost empty. `` Never believed.'' 
 
 `` Everyone stops eventually, Jack.'' He got up at that, and I could hear him jingle faintly as he walked to the door. I turned as he opened the door, the cold rushing in flapping his hair and clothes. And then he was gone, and the door closed quietly on the night. 
 
 `` You heading out then, Jack?'' said Sam, almost silent for the whole night. `` Most people head home once it hits Christmas.'' 
 
 I looked around at the empty bar, and fished in my wallet for enough money to cover the tip. `` Suppose I will, Sam.'' 
 
 As I left the bar, the cold air felt brisk and clean. I inhaled deeply, the faint tinge of snow filling my nose. I looked up as I heard a faint jingle from somewhere, but nothing was visible in the overcast night. 
 

