Author: docweasel

Reindeer Games

The reindeer stood unshivering in the sub-zero temperatures of the barn, harnessed and ready for the annual flight.

The flight that defied both time and space, that tested them to the extreme of their stamina, that strained each one of them to the limit of their endurance and strength. After such a flight it took an entire year for the reindeer to recover.

The reindeer communicated without speaking, a communion of minds, a shared memory and life-experience, for they had been born together, and had never been apart since. They had no need of words, they spoke with their hearts, each hearing the thoughts of the others as plainly as if they were spoken aloud.

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Little Bobby was so excited he couldn’t even shut his eyes, let alone sleep. The sounds of the night were muffled by the falling snow outside his bedroom window. The silent night was broken only by the soft, sweet breathing of his little brother and baby sister, her crib pushed into their room to make way for uncles, aunts and cousins in the nursery.

Bobby clutched his Teddy tightly, and strained his ears for a jingle of sleigh-bells, a tread of hooves on the roof, a rush and rustle in the chimney stack.

Only this week, that bad boy Danny Rawls had been teasing him and taunting that there was no Santa, that Santa was a lie. But Bobby refused to believe Mommy would tell him such a fib. Santa was too good, too generous, to beautiful and wonderful not to exist.

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People come up to me and say “doc, do people really come up to you?” (thank you Emo). But after that they often ask, “doc, why do you regularly read dKos and Atrios and firedoglake and other unpleasant, fatuous, spurious, scurrilous and scatalogical sites of their ilk?”

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