It's official. I am Ice the Elf. Twinkle is no more.
That's not strictly true, Twinkle is the perky 18 year old who works at the weekends when she's not studying drama at college. I guess Twinkle suits her better anyway.
Ice takes her elfing seriously. It is not without sober thought and a recognition of the weighty position she holds that Ice puts on her jingle hat and paints her cheeks red.
On the way from the changing room to the grotto a teenager heckles, 'Is Ice your real name?'. I wasn't sure if this was a poor attempt at an insult that ended up sounding merely inquisitive, or if the girl genuinely wished to know if I was christened 'Ice'. Whether or not she meant in the outside world, or she was revealing her belief in me as a full blown, lapland living, workshop working elf, I can't say. Either way, I answered her with conviction; 'Yes'.
Yes, heckling teenager, my name is Ice.
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