There was a time ..

.. when she was knee high to a grasshopper, shooting up like a beansprout, all sugar and spice and everything nice, when she believed the world was rife with those things later found to be no more than badly tattered myths: love, justice, mercy, hope.

She had read about them, seen them represented in movies, and it only came to her slowly, the realization that it was only the modern day version of the old freak shows. What was on display was not real, but, everyone wanted to believe it was, so that there would be something more in the world than the gray, scotchguarded interiors of their hearts held.

“Ah!” I hear you think, “But, then, that is hope, is it not?” No! That is not hope. It is more like with greed, that they desired those finer qualities to exist. “All for me, none for thee!” was how the longing song sang itself in their hearts, on those tiny violins that are cruelly wielded on fingertip to those in need.

Yes, they were on display, and like at a freak show, everything on display was a falsity or something twisted, born wrong, or purposely altered to suit someone’s need for cold, hard cash.

As the years went along, her heart closed itself off, shut itself down. There were boards, nails; booby traps were set under the windowsills, in case someone would try to sneak in. Her mind, however, she wrapped in barb-wire, so that her wit could tear chunks out of those who got too close, yet, she could still see who they were.

Don’t get me wrong, because this was not a girl of depression, of misery; she was a girl who wept with passion and praise for Jehovah when she sat beneath one of His glorious painted wonders. She accepted her fate, or whatever it be called, that there was no love, even when, as time progressed further, she realized that there was no love for her; but, there was some love for others, even if not of the kind spoken of with longing. She accepted that, for her, everything came with a price, a balance. The sunsets were gorgeous where she lived, at the top of the world, but, only because the dust that made her headache, her sinuses bleed, that kept her from sleeping, intermingled with the light of the sun and made it so.

Such was life.

• Kevin McGeeneyalmost 2 years ago

  Arletta, If this is “light”,,,,,then “heavy” knocks me the hell out….I love this…..you nailed it….and I understand….and can relate…..in many ways…. the juxtaposition, the irony of the last line…says it all….
• Well, there might be some irony in the use of the word light, too .. or a pun, or something lol thank you for commenting, especially the bit where it says “I love this” because I do so love those kind of comments, excessively, especially in regards to my writing.

  
  

  Though, it’s a bit sad that you think I nailed it and that you can claim to understand it. Not unbelievable, just sad. I’m sorry that you can, but, I’m glad that you do .. all the same, and all at the same .. time.

   – Arletta
• 
  grarbalegalmost 2 years ago

  The irony of the last line…says it all..
  As he stood and faced his accusers
  SUCH IS LIFE is what he said
  Ned Kelly was his name
  hope was his game
  no mercy
  nor justice
  was he shown
  However living without hope, mercy or justice
  did not detire him from the desire of love
  This Arletta is a universal peice of writting
  BRAVO to you
  as realizing that you provide your own hope, mercy, justice and love
  not the freak show out there
  a victim statement perhaps
  however hope shines through
  Kind regards Grarbaleg
• Did he, really? I always liked the tale of Ned Kelly, but, I can’t say I memorized any of the facts of it.

  Thank you, Ma’am!

   – Arletta