I knew this day would come
It was inevitable I know. Such things come to us all, but I do like to live in hope. The die was cast from the moment I was created. I had been raised to perfection in such marvellous warmth, and lifted with care accompanied by soothing sounds of praise. "Careful now. Easy does it. Perfect, Oh so wonderfully perfect," I heard one say.
I was dusted and dressed in best white then tucked into a shiny white container alongside the others. Oh yes, I had siblings, dozens of them in fact all bumping and rubbing up against one another, all born on the same day. Each one as round and fragrant and plump as I was. Each one just as perfect.
At first all was cosy and quiet but then about month ago, my dear companions in the dark container began to disappear. It always happened in the same way: a tremor rumbled through the space, then a brief scraping sound announced the coming of the light. It came through the great round door above me, a sliver of white that grew into blinding full brightness. A shiver of fresh air settled into every nook and cranny. Then the great claw descended. All five fingers of articulated dexterity hovered for a time, tracing out a menacing circle of doom over all of our heads. I always did my best to hide or at least look undesirable. When it came, the smash and grab was swift. One, two, three, sometimes as many at four perfect ones rose up into the light out of sight, gone forever. Then it was over; the soothing darkness returned and all was quiet again.
Many days there were multiple attacks on my little tin can. I've lost so many of my companions! Yet as our numbers have decreased so have the abductions. That's a small comfort, let me tell you! I had a dozen buddies last week and today just ONE!
So she with her silver buttons and I in my white cloak await our fate...
The light is coming. The claw descends.
The voice of the claw intones the judgement, "Time to finish these off."
It is done. I have been embraced by the light. The Christmas cookie tin lies empty.
And that folks is how the cookie crumbles!
©2015 April Hoeller