11-02 - The Label

-

(Published 19-Nov-2020 11:04:31)

They can't label me. If i'm smart enough, silly enough, funny enough, creative enough, friendly enough, they'll put me in a little box in their head.


I'll be goofy. Or immature. Or brilliant. Or interesting.


Not disturbed. Not mean. Not whatever-ugliness-passes-for-politically-correct.


A long, long time ago I was living in a little house by the way. It had a white picket fence, the kind that so many little stories talk about. It wrapped around as far as the eye could see. I was quite young, so I liked to imagine the fence when on forever. I sometimes put my finger on its top and walked along it, singing a song to myself. When I finished the song, I would start over - sometimes I'd sing it five times until I got to the end. It went on FOREVER!


Mom would sometimes call me in and ask me to watch my hands. I would go wash them and then go back inside - I needed to finish following the fence! Mom didn't like it when I did that. So I would sneak out to finish the fence. Once I finished the fence, I went back inside.


I once did it and Mom called and called - but I had to finish the fence. So I went back inside after I finished. I climbed back in through my window so that she wouldn't worry. She found me there and asked why I didn't come or call back. I told her I didn't hear her. That's when she would pull out the belt, crying, telling me I couldn't do that. It hurt - but I'm glad I finished the fence. It helped.


Sometimes I notice there's a little path long the fence. It looks like someone's been walking here for a while. Some parts are little foot prints, some parts are where it maybe looks like someone dragged their foot, and some parts are real deep. I have to be careful, when it rains, that my feet don't get stuck in the deeper holes.


I miss that fence.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Chapter 01 part ii

-
As Mary made her way along the path, the way grew a little wider; the subtle hint of the crashing waves behind her gave way to a sweet murmuring.  "The air seems cooler," Mary thought to herself, as the murmuring grew gently louder.  Moving along the path, Mary saw the walk bubbling up quietly from some unseen source; where the water flowed, along the path, the slope of the hill fell.  "Wow, natural spring water," Mary thought a she held her flask against the current.  The left and right side of the path were covered in a clear, clean stream, and the center of the path held rocks that continued the path, sloping upwards.  Having taken a few solid gulps and filling her flask, Mary hopped onto the first rock, being careful to land in the center. "How curious," considered Mary, as she looked at the stepping stone.  "It appears to be made of wood but decorated as if it were stone."  Looking forward, Mary noted the stones continued on their steady p
Read more

Chapter 01 part iii

-
Playing with the small arms, Mary thought “what if I ...” A small whirring sound beneath the base of the object seemed to resonate along the fingertips in contact with the arms. “Of course,” exclaimed Mary as she stepped back from the stone dais. “It is an astrolabe! I used to build these at home when daddy brought home stories!” Excited, Mary watched as the well rotated in place and beneath the aligned arrowheads, a small stone had recessed near her left knee. Bending over, Mary noticed a faint odor. “Is that … violets,” asked Mary as her eyes drew closer to the hole. “Why do I smell violets?” Looking closer, Mary realized the hole into the well went back only a foot; within the hole lay a small bed of blue petals. Amidst the petals lay a small metal object. Near her right foot, Mary picked up a small stick and gently placed it within the hole. Not hearing any response from the hole, Mary moved the small piece of metal closer to the edge. “I wonder what this is,” considered Mary as
Read more

Chapter 01 part i

-
[.: Brainstorm; random words :.] Gossamer dreams of ember days, ordinary ordinations gone ablaze, and time lost to sand and haze, has come to roost in deeper plays. "Why am I here," asked Mary, as she stood on the beach.  There had been a point where Mary was quite certain of what she had been doing.  She was sure of it.  "I don't recall how I arrived here," stated Mary to her shadow.  Standing on the beach, letting the wind draw attention to her feet, Mary glanced at the designs drawn by waves from unknown shores.  Small eddies revealed shells, filling the spaces between her toes, and slowly she walked; the waves crashed gently to her right as the soft sun hid behind clouds and cast a shadow several feet ahead. "Perhaps I shall run across someone whom I might recognize," said Mary, as she moved along the shore.  "At the very least, they might help me remember something."  As the beach slowly revealed a dune in the distance, the water
Read more