ort
/ɔrt/
1. Usually, orts. a scrap or morsel of food left at a meal.
**********************************
The bell rang. The
two servants stood and prepared to enter the dining room. They got their buckets and rags ready,
waiting long enough for the master to leave the dining room. The two of them went in and looked
around. Most of it was clean, and the
master had dined alone. Not much to
clean today.
Then
they saw it. The master’s plate, not yet
cleared. Upon it was some of his
leftovers. Not much. Just a few scraps of gristly meat and a crust
of bread. But to the servants, it was a
feast. A true luxury compared to the
dried bread and plain porridge they usually got. There was only one problem: There was only enough for one of them.
The two
servants looked at each other, sizing up the opponent. Their stomachs growled like dogs after a
bone. They would have made a mad dash
for the plate, but that could lead to beatings.
No, they had to clean the entire table starting from the far end before
they could even think of getting to the plate and the morsel of food it
promised.
The two
men stood on opposite sides of the table.
An unseen, unheard signal was given, and the race was on. Each servant cleaning as quickly as he dared,
while still leaving the table and everything on it spotless.
Each of
them knew the other. They were both
equally skilled at the art of cleaning.
They moved at the same pace, neither gaining the upper hand. Then, one of them made the first move. He tilted his head up, ever so slightly, as
if there was something behind the other man.
The trick worked. It was but a
momentary pause as the man could not help but look behind him, but it was
enough for the trickster to pull ahead.
The
other servant, now losing, thought furiously even as he cleaned his way towards
the prize. He smiled. He stopped cleaning, held his hands in front
of him and bowed his head. The leading
servant panicked. Was it a trick? Or was the master really behind him. He did not take his chances. He mimicked the pose for several
seconds. It was enough for the tables to
have turned, and places switched.
The two
men used every trick they could think of to slow the other man. Each one knew they had to be the first to get
to the plate. Tricks were used
wordlessly. Eyes and stomachs
roared. Then, they made it. They had cleaned the entire table, save for
one spot. The master’s spot. And there was the plate.
Both
made a grab at the now cold food. Before
either could lay a finger on the scrapes, another body rose up between
them. The master’s dog had entered the
dining room and sniffed out the food. It
quickly grabbed up the bread and meat, chewing them contentedly while lying on
the floor. The servants could only watch
the animal eat, and then leave the room without a care in the world.
***************************
You had to know they weren't getting those leftovers. It just couldn't end any other way, could it? Well, I guess it could have, but what fun would that be?
No comments:
Post a Comment