Mercury
Posted: Thu Nov 26, 2020 2:33 am
“So you think this is some kind of game?” William asked the shadow.
The shadow didn’t respond. It lingered between the wall and the floor, cut in half.
“I love games, and I don’t care what you think, or don’t think.” He strolled away casually, spinning on the heels of his red and white striped sneakers, and began to whistle. The shadow lurched only slightly, and if one knew how to look, they might perceive a somewhat quizzical tilt of its shadowy head. Then, BAM! William made a lunge, diving head first at it! ....but all he came up with was a couple scratched up knuckles and a light purple welt on his forehead. The shadow/specter was too nimble and jetted off into the night fast as quicksilver.
William was crestfallen; his shoulders slumped. He ran his fingers over his red knuckles and scowled and cursed.
The window of the small obscure room which William inhabited was left open. Of COURSE that’s how it got out, he thought, and he walked over to it. Thin, time worn curtains that hung from it blew towards him like cobwebs in the gentle night breeze, and he looked out into the small patch of darkness over the tops of the sycamores.
What... was that? Something glittery appeared over the tree tops.
Was it the evening star? The morning star? It was a phantom dot, it must be a star.
He made it a star.
Then he squeezed his eyes closed tight and balled up his fists, and threw clenched teeth he made a wish:
Star light, star bright,
I wish I may, I wish I might
Derive some order from these ghosts
That glowing puzzle pieces might align
That sense could be made
From dirt, from roots, from blood
And that you could hold me
In your great big sky arms
And never let me go
And teach me how to love somebody
And keep me here
“Amen.” It seemed appropriate.
The night seemed to offer some kind of answer or non answer by wafting a cloud in front of the maybe-a-star, as he opened his eyes. This will have to do for tonight.
..all they ever wanted was a little bit of you..
The shadow didn’t respond. It lingered between the wall and the floor, cut in half.
“I love games, and I don’t care what you think, or don’t think.” He strolled away casually, spinning on the heels of his red and white striped sneakers, and began to whistle. The shadow lurched only slightly, and if one knew how to look, they might perceive a somewhat quizzical tilt of its shadowy head. Then, BAM! William made a lunge, diving head first at it! ....but all he came up with was a couple scratched up knuckles and a light purple welt on his forehead. The shadow/specter was too nimble and jetted off into the night fast as quicksilver.
William was crestfallen; his shoulders slumped. He ran his fingers over his red knuckles and scowled and cursed.
The window of the small obscure room which William inhabited was left open. Of COURSE that’s how it got out, he thought, and he walked over to it. Thin, time worn curtains that hung from it blew towards him like cobwebs in the gentle night breeze, and he looked out into the small patch of darkness over the tops of the sycamores.
What... was that? Something glittery appeared over the tree tops.
Was it the evening star? The morning star? It was a phantom dot, it must be a star.
He made it a star.
Then he squeezed his eyes closed tight and balled up his fists, and threw clenched teeth he made a wish:
Star light, star bright,
I wish I may, I wish I might
Derive some order from these ghosts
That glowing puzzle pieces might align
That sense could be made
From dirt, from roots, from blood
And that you could hold me
In your great big sky arms
And never let me go
And teach me how to love somebody
And keep me here
“Amen.” It seemed appropriate.
The night seemed to offer some kind of answer or non answer by wafting a cloud in front of the maybe-a-star, as he opened his eyes. This will have to do for tonight.
..all they ever wanted was a little bit of you..