I like to imagine how Santa writes his lists.
Perhaps it is all done with magic; a book that just swaps names around when needed, a monopoly of children.
But as a lover of stationary; it is nice to imagine.
Does he write them in pencil, easy to rub out and start again?
Does he write them on Post-It's in Sharpie, stuck on a whiteboard to swap around at will?
Or does he write them out in ink, updating them weekly?
Maybe he writes them on a blackboard with coloured chalks, where he can wipe them away with a sweep of dust.
Perhaps he sits down with a simple ballpoint and cartridge paper?
Maybe they are written in a Moleskine; but not until Christmas Eve.
Or the beautiful possibility of him sitting down with one last cup of tea; a fountain pen at hand.
For all we know, maybe it is typed?
Perhaps Santa just sits down and word processes our names; an endless print under his desk coming through.
He could go through the books like accounts, highlighting the good in yellow, the bad in orange.
The naughty in green and the nice in blue.
And the beauty of knowing that he could change his way each year?
The beauty of imagining him reading the nice list with a smile; then the naughty with a grimace.
Shaking his head at those who have swapped lists almost daily all year; until they finally found themselves good on the Eve of the day.
Hey guys! Merry Christmas, or anything else that you may be celebrating. This started in my head yesterday whilst in Rymans, where I made the statement, "I wonder how Santa writes his lists". I hope you liked this little piece of writing!