I admit I was curious So I looked and am puzzled to this day When I saw you looking at yourself for all to see And no one. I can’t remember if your eyes Were flat to deliver Your lies and promises, handsome. That’s what You were thinking when you saw yourself swooning Back at you. I remind myself, none of my business, I don’t even Know, and despite the English, pretty Sure I don’t speak the same language As you. I hope it wasn’t what I’m afraid, No, concerned, it might have been about. Excuse me, for all I know, Your other knows you’re both Swingers.
No, one I was watching: Yeah, I don’t know who You are.
The mist was extra thick this morning. The bicyclist would swear it, to anyone he encountered. He would nod, call out in greeting, and say, "Quite the fog!" That would be sure to garner a friendly reply. Maybe even a chortle. At least something in response, if just two words like, "I'll say!"
He pedaled faster. There were figures out there, but they never seemed any closer, or farther, for that matter. He had never ventured out there. He stuck to his path, feeling certain that this was the particularly foggy day that would be different: Someone would cross his path.
Would they be on bike also? Or on foot? Out for a stroll, or in a hurry? His hands gripped the handlebars as the wind stirred the thick mist just ahead of him. He loved looking forward to today. Today would be new; and consequently, every day afterward. He was to meet someone—Someone—along this path. His path.
He could see it in the distance. Off his right shoulder. Some mornings he looked directly at it, and some days, he just couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge it at all. Some days, he realized, he barely acknowledged himself. Today, though, as it came into view, the Sculpture almost seemed to speak to him. Night & Day.
Abruptly, he halted, directly across from the Sculpture. Had it always been Night & Day? In that order? He racked his brain. He could picture the opposite: Day & Night, but he couldn’t quite say if he had seen the Sculpture with this sequence in reality. Troubling. Troublesome.
He lifted his foot to push the pedal but stopped. He was having a moment of…what was the word? Déjà vu, yes. He glanced over at Night & Day. The opening in the center, now that had always been like that. Along with the people. He couldn’t tell if they were on this side or that side of the Sculpture. He laughed quietly to himself–this fog was so illusory.
Someone was going to be crossing his path today. He looked into the thickness ahead of him. This was the path he traveled every morning, but for the first time, unless he did this every day, he had to ask himself, "Where am I going?" He was feeling forgetful, even though he knew he knew himself better.
He put his other foot on the other pedal, almost mechanically, but stopped again. He flexed his fingers and stared hard into the fog. Was someone coming? The wind shifted a swath over the paved path about ten yards ahead, but no one appeared. The bicyclist listened. Nothing, save for the wind. Not even birds chirped.
That was another odd happening, or rather, non-happening. When had he last heard the sound of birds? He couldn’t say. He could definitely remember what they sounded like. "Well, if that isn’t something." He murmured, lingering still on his bike. He tried to whistle a tune he knew, but found his lips to be either out of shape or not cooperating with the melody that was just …ha, on the tip of his tongue.
He cleared his throat. "Hey!" None of he shadowy figures seemed to hear him, even when he shouted louder and louder. A bit irritated and bit more irrationally, he began belting, "Where am I going? Where am I going?" Of course, no one out there responded, but after his last full-throated bellow of the question, the answer occurred to him.
"I’m going to meet someone. Someone I know." With that, he dropped his bike to the ground, and started for the gap between Night and Day in the Sculpture.
How did I get here? Amnesia hit unexpectedly this time; It is easy to get lost in the underworld. Let us help you once again Find which way is up So you don’t fall down farther You poor pathetic exercise– Sorry–child. Would you like to try again? Try standing. Oopsie-daisy, there you are. Off you go. That’s right now. Uh-huh, buh-bye. No, no, you take care. You better.
I do look back and wonder At when the road diverged in a late springtime wood I retraced my steps thinking that old way led to better. Here I am in yellowing leaves, surely this was but one way At the time, my heart said the only one was back waiting In truest regard, willfulness had set already set his path Off track, though I believed, surely what was promised Was simply around this obstructed view or after that broken bend Until one day, I knew that road beyond and all too well— Entirely the same—so I changed direction, and entirely grateful; Indeed, 'I took the road less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.'
All candy, when done right, should tantalize the senses. Eye-catching. Good bend or snap, depending. Fragrant. Suitable feel in the hand and mouth texture-wise. Delectable on the tastebuds, possibly inducing rapture, but at the minimum, pure joy.
Some candy, when done right, should transport the consumer to other times and places—literally.
Both types of candy were found in Ye Old Candy Curiosity Shoppe, run by a smaller folk that inhabited that mountain town. The latter confection type was not set out and often denied to customers suspected of nefarious purposes. No, the special time-travel candy was rare—only rumored to exist really—and the most often use was for nostalgic and sentimental reasons, such as visiting the grandparents back in the day one more time, a sweet sixteen—that sort of thing—and the candy would taste like something from that time like Grandma's strawberry jam or hot fudge sundae from Farrell's.
As rumors go, unfortunately, and what with nefarious hooliganism becoming rampant in the otherwise friendly mountain tourist town, it was only a matter of time before Ye Old Candy Curiosity Shoppe was robbed.
Nothing here remains but the sand Creeps in with plans for future dunes "Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m going to take Real good care of you." (Yes, I remember, and trust me, it's important that I do.) Someone's been there obviously, Long foregone in search of belongings, Though taken full account and decided: Let that old man who lost his only son Off the hook. Look at those treasures, for won; If sand were dollars…you'd be a richer man. I stood as the pillars there, and wonder why Less and less as more sand creeps in. As I said, nothing there remains, not even salt, Just sand. Just sand.
I’ve created a monster And I didn’t even realize I apologize I’m sorry, and I own it.
I’ve created a monster But I’m going to make it better This time I won’t believe the lies Or count the times You’re sorry, but you’re not.
I’ve created a monster How could I do such a thing Impossibly all I needed Was you Making me wait Until, and I apologize, I’m sorry, but I couldn’t.
I’ve created a monster And you can call me What you want— I won’t be there. And I won’t apologize, Because I’m not sorry for myself.
There was something I was planning to get around to doing yesterday, but it totally slipped my mind and I forgot, sort of. The prompt that went away before I could get to it, about saving the world except for having procrastinated too long. That one (and "it should be humorous" if I remember correctly). Now I feel entitled to return to it by nature of this prompt on royalty, plus the arrogance of some procrastinators. That’s not me, by the way…the idea for the prompt didn’t come together until this morning and when I woke up, only this royal one and a frivolous one about a compound word not being as a compound word was offered. Who wants to talk about my cat being in a car…said not my cat ever (she’s not a carpet, so don’t tread on her, or put her in anything on wheels…yeah).
Anyway, saving the world yesterday was on my to-do list. I just had a lot going on, you know? Some days are like that. I was busy crossing the T’s and dotting the i's on the list, and then, I took a nap from having being woken in the night to start thinking about the list and what to put on it in the first place. "Save the world" always ranks above "save myself" because that’s the right thing to do, yes? However, I was running laundry on a Sunday as it was and got to cutting some crazy hedge that grew way out of line after a week of storms. I didn’t even have that on the list! I added it after "save myself" and then crossed it off, since I had completed it. Before I did so, I also added a star, since I did it well.
"Save the world" is one to ponder, especially when written down. So, I put a box around it in order to specify its importance in my mind. I do have some really good ideas about how to approach it. I think it involves books, young minds, and social media. I went ahead a jotted “1/2” and a star as encouragement to myself that at least I’m on track and making progress. (You know, either you’re part of the solution or…yup, the problem.)
So here I am. It's a new day. I have added to my list, "Work through perfectionism issues." World still not saved. Yet. Freaking Mondays.
