It was the beginning of the end of another year, the usual flurry of activity that excludes by failing to include. I watch through the windows as snowflakes drift down, obliterating the landscape, crisply reflecting the pale December light. It's too hard to sleep.At 65, I'm a year past that age we've blithely known as old since we were young. We had a little sing-song again this year, changing the lyrics as if they were all that had changed. If I'd known earlier that I was going to be old one day, I might have saved some energy for the last few decades. All of mine is spent.Will you still need me? Will you still feed me?I feed myself, here and there. My hands shake too badly to grasp at much, and I'm far away from anything that'll still them. That wasn't by accident, but I'll admit, I wasn't counting on the isolation. My joints ache in the cold, which at least serves to keep me alert, or give the impression of it to passers-by who might notice me.Will you still need me? Will you still feed me?She needed me, once, and I wasn't up to the job. I was too far under, and when I saw how far and fast I'd have to swim to catch her, I chose drowning. She chose poetry, and wrote with froth and fury, the waves beating about her, until the sea came up to swallow her. She went beyond need.Will you still need me? Will you still feed me?It is warm in here, and bright, and silent. The nurse said they found me on the ground outside the flat, in shirt and slacks and a dressing gown, that I'd been there for some time, that the snow had piled up around me. Thank goodness your neighbour called it in, she said, or you'd be a goner. She pronounces it like "gonna". I'm not sure where she's from, but with the light silhouetting her she looks like an angel. An angel of mercy, feeding me with a spoon."We should have you home in the new year," she says, and it nearly stops my heart.
It was the beginning of the end of another year..."What!?" Electra exclaimed. "What is with that opening sentence? It makes no sense!"Erik sighed deeply. "Electra, please let me be. I'm trying to write here.""But why would you start with such an upsurd line? I mean, seriously? How can something be the beginning of the end of something?""Electra, if you would let me write, you'd understand.""Alright, fine," the older teenager began to walk away. "I'll leave you to your work, artist.""Thank you," Felix relaxed and turned back to his laptop. "So let's see, 'It was the beginning of the end of another year. People were beginning to review their progress for the year and make new resolutions. Promising that next year, in fact, they would go to the gym every day. They would cook more. They would make something of their lives and not waste their time watching 'House of Cards' on Netflix. It was going to be-' ""Terrible."Erik jumped up, shocked by the voice behind him. He spun around to see that Electra had returned with their other friend, Aidan.The younger teenage boy groaned. "Electra, I thought you were going to leave me alone.""Well, after being puzzled so very much by your opening line, I just had to find someone to open up to and help talk some sense into you. It was just troubling me so very much! I could barely stand it!"Erik narrowed his eyes. "Electra, you read it not even 5 minutes ago...""And how painfully agonizing those 5 minutes were! But thanks the heavens, I found Aidan, and he understands my pain.""Yeah, man," Aidan nodded. "I really don't get it; The beginning of the end of another year? What's that suppose to mean?""...Guys, can you just let me write?""But Erik darling, don't you care that you're bothering us? That your insane words are troubling our very souls?""Looks who's talking..." Erik mumbled.
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It was the beginning of the end of another year, and the crew was feeling the pressure. Santa was on his annual tear. His sleigh was in the launching catapult, its turbines spinning up. his gun, an evil-looking Bushmaster AR15 j25 with telescopic sight, was hung by the chimney with care "Where's that goddam Blitzen!" he roared."Blitzen is off work today with a migraine," said an elf, querilously. "And so are Prancer, BOuncer, Killer and Vixen.""Those pussies. when they get back I'll slap them upside the head.""Oh, and there's a man here from the labor relations board.""Hell's he want?" The elf didnt answer. He knew to stay out of santa's way as the season of good cheer approached. But he felt sure that Old Saint Nick would soon be in the nick for his abusive management style."I'll bet those pinko commie elfin shlemiels have been snitching again." He prepared to board his sleigh, which had been repainted this year, so that it was now black and shiny as Hermann Goering's Mercedes. He climbed aboard and the craft sagged under his weight."wait, Santa, what about the evil-looking Bushmaster AR15 j25 with telescopic sight?" "what about it?""it's a rule -- chekov's gun! you have to use it by the end of the story!""Oh yeah," Santa said. He took the massive weapon down from the gun rack above the mantle and leveled it at the elf, who quaked in his boots as he prepared to die. But Santa laughed and spun the gun like a baton, then put it back in place above the mantle."There. Happy? Now get to work."The elf scampered away without looking back.