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goatgodschildWhen I was seven (17 years ago, now), I woke up, very early on Christmas morning, before anyone else. I was headed downstairs, but I heard something moving downstairs.
I moved as quietly as I could, and peering into the living room, I saw Santa. He was about 9 feet tall and definitely was real. Not at the mall, the photo ops, anything of that -- he was downstairs and...it wasn't my parents, because they are a) not 9 feet tall, and b) not owners of a red and ermine robe.
I knew I saw something I should not view, a god of warmth and winter both together, who cannot be viewed head-on, only through representation. I scrambled upstairs and hid until my parents came downstairs. That was no human. A humanoid form, certainly, but...something else.
I moved as quietly as I could, and peering into the living room, I saw Santa. He was about 9 feet tall and definitely was real. Not at the mall, the photo ops, anything of that -- he was downstairs and...it wasn't my parents, because they are a) not 9 feet tall, and b) not owners of a red and ermine robe.
I knew I saw something I should not view, a god of warmth and winter both together, who cannot be viewed head-on, only through representation. I scrambled upstairs and hid until my parents came downstairs. That was no human. A humanoid form, certainly, but...something else.
