The Deity Club by Helen Withington
This is one of my favourite 75-worders. I loved the idea of some ancient "Gentleman's Club" where the divine hung-out when they weren't being omnipotent. That idea seemed to get wrapped into the thought of whether Father Christmas would be allowed into such a club. He certainly has great powers, but it's pretty specific and that potential conflict became the essence of the story. I think Helen's water colour did a wonderful job of capturing the mood of both the chilled out Santa and the despairing God of Thunder.
The old man sat down heavily by the fire and patted his distended belly. “One Billion Calories an’ still only a fifty-two inch waist. Ho Ho Ho.” He pulled off his red hat, patting his sweaty brow with it. “I fear the million shots of whisky may have got the better of me this year!” he bellowed, snorting loudly. Thor shook his head and glared. Letting Santa into the Deity Club had been a terrible mistake.
Hope you're all having a wonderful Christmas Time.