Nick Baba's Last Drink and Other Sketches

On a bustling Christmas Eve the single main street of a tiny country town glows with shop lights, while ragged children stare longingly at toys they cannot afford. In the shadow of the festive displays sits the dim, dust‑laden workshop of Nick Baba, the village cobbler, its windows black and its air thick with the smell of old leather. Alone at his bench, Nick hammers away at a pair of shoes, his thoughts as heavy as the rusted hinges of his shop door.

A strange, goblin‑like figure suddenly perches on a three‑legged stool, greeting him with a cheerful “Merry Christmas” that feels both mocking and oddly kind. The creature’s bewildering appearance—hair‑capped, red‑eyed, and barely taller than a child—sparks a bitter exchange that reveals Nick’s desperation and the landlord’s greed. As the goblin offers cryptic counsel, listeners are drawn into a whimsical yet somber meditation on pride, poverty, and the unexpected visitors who appear when we are most alone.