It's That Special Time Of Year
“Tired...” he sighed, letting his head roll on its axis as his whole body paused mid-action. A moment later he was back at it, cutting the Salisbury steak into jerk width strips and sliding them into the wheelbarrow, then repeating the cycle by pulling another steak from the tub of gravy in front of him. It was numbing work, and his mind and knife were dulling after twelve straight hours, but he was determined to finish before the meat went bad. He watched his hands as they moved over the meat, holding the knife. His skin was a grayish-brown and for a moment it was hard to tell the difference between fingers and saucy strips of fresh cut Salisbury. A surge of adrenaline rushed through him as he processed the fear of accidentally cutting his fingers off. He would have to take a break or at least slow down, but his fear of not finishing proved greater and he hunkered down and moved along at the same speed, plodding. “Everyone will get a Christmas present this year!” became his mantra, and the empty meat cutting hall filled with its echo, laced with the palpable tone of desperation. A few of the little ones skittered over to him and looked up, faces filled with fear, and the longing to help, but he cursed them, and they blew away. If they had worked diligently in the first place, he wouldn’t be in this position. He thought ahead to the transport and his mind reeled. The meat would only stay cold for so long and then he would be in real trouble since the steaks were only a step away from rancid at this point. As his panic increased, he cut faster which only made his panic increase. He felt like an out-of-control carnival ride that everyone had backed away from to watch run its terrible course. He glanced in the tub and noticed the bottom showing through the remaining steaks and again he felt a surge in his blood. He just might finish! Oh God in Heaven he just might do it this year. And from a window high above near the ceiling of the cutting hall, the little ones watched as Santa began weeping, still furiously cutting his Salisbury strips. Furiously cutting his Salisbury strips.