How did I end up here?
You came into my life like a tempest. Ripping away everything
I thought I knew. Washing away my stories with hailstones.
Throwing me up in the air. Spinning me around until I couldn’t breathe.
Spitting me out.
Her reverie was broken by her waders being dropped in her lap.
She knew it was time. But still, she made her protest, “Papa,
can’t Egbert go today? He’s your first born and it’s his calling.”
She watched the car heading towards the wall, as though in slow
motion. She knew he was going too fast. She knew the collision
was inevitable. But it seemed to be taking forever.
The wind had changed. It was time to leave. She’d worried over
it for months. When? How? Where? But now it was obvious.
One moment she was there, the next she was gone. Utterly
gone.
The king was the wisest ruler in the history of the nation. Kind, fair, open-hearted, direct. His castle gates stood open every day. People from near and far brought their disputes to him, and left as friends. The king had many admirers, yet he never married. At dusk, he ate a simple supper, and retired alone to his chamber, bolting the heavy door behind him.
The telling of a dream.
She awoke. [I know, that’s not where a dream normally begins.
Go with it.]
She awoke.
The sense of anticipation grew. It was time. The crowd drew back slightly from the stone, forming a circle of space. And in that space, the dancers. Still. Silent. Ready.
Imagine, one day long ago you’d entered a room. And there was an old engineer there. Carefully tweaking the movement of several long poles. He’d been a bit grumpy, apparently you were late. Quickly, he instructed you to continue the work, to keep the plates above spinning. “Whatever you do, don’t let a plate drop.” And he left the room.
Once upon a time there was a man. Everywhere he looked, he saw people like naked emperors. Convinced they were clothed in the finest materials, yet wearing not a stitch. This surprised him, as his own robes were of particularly high quality.
