From TC 9:1 – “Bridging Christmas” by Kristi Petersen Schoonover

My eight-year-old sister Kelly says that Santa doesn’t come to Salisbury.
“That’s ridiculous,” I say. The latest in a string of ridiculous things in this nowhere village. Like the football team only plays against itself and I have to be up making breakfast at 5:30, because our school’s an hour away and the bus, according to the guys, takes even longer in the winter on account of the plow attached to its grill. “Santa goes everywhere.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’m eighteen.”
“You’re wrong, Graham. He doesn’t come here,” she insists. “Ask your nickelback friends.”
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