What We Forget in December

I have an idea.

It's kind of never going hit the surface. Maybe if I find a person that still likes to play as much as I do. But what are the odds?

Anyway - here goes:

It's December. You are driving in your car. On one of those smaller highways with cars in both directions on the same string of asphalt (which makes me think about something else! ... Well, later). Big enough for two and a half average car to drive side by side. But you're there alone in your car. Probably listening to music, turned all the way up, because they played Last Christmas a few minutes ago and the following song have to really stick hard into your memory to avoid getting sick. The temperature outside is some degrees above zero and there's a bit of anxiety in your blood because of all the things you have to do before Christmas Eve. Your heart beats a little faster, you eat badly and forget to call the guy who's had one of your chair projects for restoration a couple of months now. Trying to keep track of the gifts and the whole invitation schedule around the holidays. It's around 3 pm but you never noticed whether the sun went up or stayed in bed. The air is humid and grey. You realise it doesn't matter what you try to fill your thoughts with - you'll still be a bit depressed because of the badly lighted day and because time isn't treating you nicely. 

Suddenly you see something lying at the side of the road. Naturally you would think it's a rabbit or a bird that had gotten in the way of some of your fellow drivers. It's kind of sad, but it happens God knows how many times every day and you've even killed a few yourself, so it stopped affecting your emotions. Only this doesn't look like a bird at all. It's so red. Is it blood? No. You slow down. Move closer. It's definitely not a bird. Or a cat. But it's dead all right. What a weird shape. 

You pass the mystical carcass in a tempo so slow it's allowing you to see my idea there by the road. You're not sure... Is it really true? Gotta park the car some meters ahead. You step out with a puzzled look on your face. All the time looking at the "thing". 

Now you're standing where the "thing" was once lying. On the ground is blood alright. And in you're arms you are carrying one of Santa's Little Helpers. It's only the size of a normal adult cat, but you can see all the details quite clear. Its little fingers, the red cheeks and nose, the curly hair under the red hat. It's so dead. Somebody must have been driving too fast like yourself with too much on his mind. Like yourself. 

And this is when the idea becomes beautiful. Because now you go deeper into Christmas. You are holding Christmas in your arms and you realise that you've forgotten what it's all about! And it's surely not about being so busy it kills the very heart of it all. 

There you go! A human perspective has changed. Of course it shouldn't be a real Santas Little Helper - and I'm not sure whether it ought to be just a symbol (like one of those knitted ones our grand mother had everywhere on her couch) or if it should be so real you can't believe your own eyes.

The idea is to place these dear reminders along the Danish roads where you usually see dead animals. And I guess it's easy to apply to other countries as well. But then again - who would do something like that?

Rebecca