An Elf Will Be Let Go Tonight
Wednesday, December 16th, 2009
PROMPT: The countdown clock for Christmas is ticking. Santa’s elves begin working their magic on the assembly lines, but the line comes to a screeching halt when rumors leak that one elf is going to get let go that day.
GOAL: 750 words or fewer.
SOURCE: Writers Digest Writing Prompts
Rough Draft – no revision
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Over the sound of low voices and hammering, the even sound of the giant clock’s hands was a constant reminder that time continued to move, with slow determination, toward the biggest day of the year. Christmas Eve was only one more day away and the North Pole workshop was at its busiest. Magic aided manual labor as the elves worked to finish the toys that would go to all of the good little boys and girls of the world.
Dolls were sewn, dressed and given curly locks on one long series of tables. Sticks received hobby horse heads and wheels on another table. Elves on one end of the room built airplanes that were flown on test flights to the other end of the room where they were painted and placed into boxes.
It was a chaotic mass of assembly lines creating sleds and wagons, tops and jump ropes. Toy soldiers lined up beside dancing dolls. Teddy Bears leaned against Jack In the Box toys. Scissors snipped bows to perfect dove tail points, pens scritched out names taken from Santa’s ‘Good little Girls and Boys’ lists.
And then the whisper was heard.
“One elf is going to get let go today.”
The room fell to silence, the attention of all on the two elves that stood at the top of the stair. Time were tough, even far to the north, but none had ever thought such troubles would ever reach Santa’s workshop. Letters from little boys and girls asked Santa for a job for their mommy or daddy, it was well known that so many were unemployed in the real world. But there, at Santa’s workshop? How could any elf be let go when there was so much work to be done for all of the good little boys and girls of the world?
The floor of the workshop was silent. And then a whisper could be heard, and more whispers and more. How could it be? So near Christmas Eve? How could one of their own be let go? The elves worked hard, toy making was all that they knew. How could any one of them be without a job? Why?
Santa needed to be asked about this. The elves would strike before they let one of their family go. They had made toys, one generation after another, for hundreds of years. It simply was not fair for Santa to let one of them go. They were not even paid!
The whispers and angry murmurs were soon overheard in Santa’s office and the not-too jolly old elf came out to see what the commotion was about. Why had the work stopped? It was Christmas eve!
Rather than work the elves all turned, scowls and fists and angry scorn. They moved as a mass, a mob filled with elves, shouting and yelling each one wanted heard. Santa was pushed back, his hand out in front, surprised at the anger from such happy elves.
“Oh no,” he laughed, unable to stand up, collapsed in a chair he fought for breath. “I’m not firing an elf this night, there are so many children, I need some help. One of you will get to go with me on the sleigh tonight!”
