There are such things…
I have terrible stories to tell. Stories that make people frown slightly, lean forward and wonder how I can still laugh.
I have miserable stories to tell. Stories that make people recoil, hands over their mouth, heart in their eyes. Stories that make it mandatory that I still laugh.
But I have beautiful stories to tell you, too.
Stories where there’s no hero, but every crime is solved. Stories where love finds a way through the choking vines and killing thorns, stories where the plucky girl next door saves the day and learns to live on her own. I have those stories in spades.
I tell them softly, hesitantly… it’s so hard with a mind set on destruction to carefully construct a delicate filigree of hope.
We step into this life so full of light and so tender to everything, but the light fades and we toughen up. We’re tough. We’re tough. We are so tough.
To what end though? What good does the rhinoceros’s skin do us? We squirrel down, building a fortress out of bitter reprisals of the same old sins, we sharpen our claws and arch our backs… we take bites out of each other and revel in the pain.
I have stories. I have tales and fables and myths and lies. I have lessons whittled down into bite sized bits of retribution. I have the faith of a mustard seed.
All tangled up with nothing left the do.
