January 25, 2012

So many times … hopes dashed … curse prolonged. Are you the one, child? I’ve heard you conspire with the boy every day. Oh, yes, little one, my eyesight is weak, but my earhear is most uncommon keen. Can such a tiny petal of life perform my dream of a miracle? Well, there’s no reward to be found in delay. How many times have I reached this point only to be squashed hopeless by the cowardice of children seeming to be far bolder and sturdier than you, little chit? Mournful waif. Oh, my bones, how they ache. My twisted fingers … agony to move. Go on, keep crying. Ah, you cry on the outside, I on the inside. Such a thin meager hope. So many years. You are the least likely of all who have gone before. Nevertheless, I will spill the words of instruction for the hundredth time … thousandth? ‘__________’ What’s that? Don’t bring my ember to flame, only to douse it. Oh, my soul, I will spill the words for the second time. ‘__________’ Oh, it proceeds, but now, but now … show exasperation. ‘__________’ Lean in. Pluck up the courage, my darling. Do it. Do it. Little angel, please. OH JOY! OH RELEASE!

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