This week's Flash Fiction Friday challenge was to share the diary of one of Santa's elves. Battling with this on my iPad, so formatting is a challenge.
Edit - I got home and used my PC to fix this. I was considering a faster/better iPad before, but after my blogging battles, and the poor Scrivener compatibility, I think it will be a small lap top next for me. A Windows one.
Naughty or Nice
Dear Diary: I am so tired of freakin' toys. And Christmas. We get a week off in January, and a month in the summer (complete with huge mosquitoes, up here on the tundra) but other than that it's flat out toy making, making sure we'll be ready to fill Santa's sleigh once again. We start the year off with the basics, the dolls and stuffed toys and train sets and wagons, then as Christmas approaches Santa finds out this year's trends and we start to specialise. The basics don't work for most kids now, they all have their unique and special demands.
It's been decades since I sat on Santa's knee and wished it could always be Christmas for me. Be careful what you wish for. Don't get me wrong, we are mainly a happy group, all smiles and songs, but it's just that it's started to drag. I know I used to write In here faithfuly too, but there's really not a lot to say lately. Some days I wish I could get out and do something else.
Dear Diary: Didn't I warn myself about wishing? We just had a meeting in the Great Hall, with Santa's CEO and some guy from HR. The big guy didn't even have the nerve to tell us himself- we are being outsourced. Even though we work all year for free, there's still room and board and benefits, so it's cheaper to farm most of this out to some sweatshop in Asia. I might be let go, maybe kept on, but I'm not sure which choice would be the good news. The ones that leave will have to get a real job down south. Yes, we are all hard workers, creative, great with our hands, but there is the fact that we are only 24 inches tall. With pointed ears.