Lucas awoke on the 22nd of December in a much greater mood than he had been in weeks. He had finally worked up the courage to ask out Margaret, and things were going great. "The Producers" was well on it's way to becoming the Sawmill Theatre's greatest performance yet. Lucas ate a quick breakfast and headed out the door to the Theatre.
For the first time in months, he was enjoying his work. This was of course, due to two reasons. First, the former owner of his half of the theatre died. The owner knew how much Lucas enjoyed the performing arts, and being rather humanistic, gave Lucas full ownership of the stage. He was glad that Heather, the owner of the cinema on the other half of the Sawmill Theatre, was courteous enough to abstain from screening movies while plays were being performed (and practiced). Maybe he would offer her a free ticket to "The Producers." She seemed nice enough. The second reason, of course, was that Margaret worked at the Theatre with him.
As soon as he stepped outside, he heard the faint ringing out a bell. Not wanting to seem to eager to get to work, he decided to investigate. He trudged through the thick snowfall and found the source of the ringing coming from outside of Isabella's Cafe. There, a man standing in a Salvation Army outfit, wearing headphones, was loudly clanging the bell. As he drew closer, he noticed that music was blaring from the man's headphones. Christmas music to be precise. "You better watch out, you better not cry..." The lyrics were floating around in a strangely disembodied manner. He tossed some change into the donation bucket, and started walking away. "What's your favorite color?" yelled the blind man. "What?" said Lucas. "Buddy the Elf, what's your favorite color?" he said back. It was a line from "Elf", a personal favorite Christmas movie for Lucas. And, he recalled, a favorite of Margaret's too. Maybe he'd invite her to watch it sometime.
When he got to Sawmill Theatre, Margaret hollered down from the catwalk. She needed him to adjust a few lights. He headed up the ladder as she headed down. He began adjusting the lights, letting his mind wander. It was a pretty easy task. He thought about being the owner of his half of the theatre, and how it really didn't mean anything. He still couldn't get a word in edgewise about the plays that went on, that was up to the producer. Unfortunately for Lucas, he was tragically distracted, and in the midst of his thoughts he accidentally pulled a cord half out of a socket. The lights he was working with were incredibly high voltage. That's when he electrocuted himself. Every muscle in his body tensed up and relaxed simultaneously. Then he slumped down on the catwalk. He lay there, in a half alive state, and the world around him seemed to stop. Every detail of his life became clear, and everything around him was intensified. He lay there, feeling like he was everywhere and nowhere all at once. The air seemed thick and nearly electric, his skin burned. Every individual slat on the catwalk seemed 10 feet wide and he felt like he was falling, eventually feeling the hard metal of the catwalk against his back once again. He heard swirls of voices, or a voice, he wasn't sure because the sounds surrounded him, while simultaneously seeming far away. Slowly the terrifying near death feelings faded, and he slipped back into reality. Margaret was crouched by his side, telling him that he was okay. The snow prevented any medical help from arriving on scene, but as minutes past, he felt better. Eventually he felt safe, the catwalk beneath him felt solid, and he could breath and control his thoughts. He had thoughts. The terrifying part of living on the cusp of death was the absence of thought, being replaced by mere feeling.
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