The Task Master

Under his control...for now.

Ted couldn’t believe his task master. The physical labor was minimal but the emotional and mental energy he required of Ted and a dozen others was unbearable.

But Ted trudged onward.

Ten hours in, 12 hours, 18 hours, 27 hours, 43 days in and the task master was still pushing, still prodding and getting more work out of him than he thought was possible. No breaks. No time to rest. The task needed to get done. Needed to. Had to. Failure or quitting wasn’t an option. That’s all there was to it.

I think I’m going out of my mind. How much more can I take of this? Why doesn’t he let up? Why the push? Why the relentless drive for perfection? How did he learn that? Never mind that, but who is this task master and why did I volunteer to come under his control and authority? He says only a few more minutes but I don’t believe him, can’t believe him. He’s extended his reign of terror before and yet I still come under his thumb, under his absolute control.

Will it ever stop? Will he ever quit? How much more can I take of this? What would happen if I just up and left? Nothing. So why don’t I do it? Free country and all that. There he goes again saying just a minute or two more. Liar. Born liar. They all are, all of them. I can tell when he's lying, and this is one of those times.

“Times up,” the task master said. “Pencils down. Pass your papers to the center aisle immediately. After that you are free to go. I will have your final exams graded by the end of the weekend. Enjoy your summers. Class dismissed.”