0814 Swinging Carousel

14 Oct

Do not be ashamed or afraid of who you are. Belt or scream your name. Relent only for air.

0814. The streets were scarcely occupied. Humans and mutants shuffling and moaning in rags of filth.  The rainbow of flashing lights lit the blowing litter and kites lost to the stratosphere. The telecast announced the importation of Europeans and Asians. 100s of millions. They had done something right, were productive, but overpopulation forced them overseas. And they came in like rows of freight trains, filling the width of the streets. Not stopping. Moving constantly. The natives fell into the lowest of the new caste. Crawling along the walls and pipes like rats. I lost my balance on a crowded gas line, falling into the cologne scented river of people below. Trampled and confused, I made my way to an unoccupied corner. I pulled a pet from my pocket. Not getting the comfort I had cried for, I squashed the pitiful genetic mistake beneath my fist. Its lifeless eye nestled in its tentacles grazing back at me…

I tried to make ends meet via various avenues. First as a street performer, but my dramatic entrance from a high-rise, riding on a dragon, had failed. I was shunned by own shame. From there, I found employment in a costume as some unknown merchandise mascot. Standing at an entrance, my face painted orange and white, only to be mocked and poked at…

Off shift, I was invisible. The swiftly passing crowd was not distracted by the orange and white, box-shaped clown sitting in the corner. I found myself among others dressed as merchandise. Their eyes as empty as my recently deceased pet’s. I wanted to give them hope, but first needed to find it for myself. Then a melody warmed my weary mind. I was inspired. I gathered trash, whatever made a crackle, twang or thump. Whatever the wind blew in my direction. I convinced the others to follow me to a clearing. All with instruments ready to play, I started with an elastic string tethered to a telephone pole covered in flyers. I began with three notes in a measure. Building. Progressing. The flyers rattled, vibrating like cymbals. The others began to play along. The crowd intrigued, diverted toward the music, spilling and flooding around us. They too grabbed elastic strings and began to play. The concentrically spinning orchestra filled the air. And I was elated on that swinging carousel.


One Response to “0814 Swinging Carousel”

  1. Mr WordPress October 14, 2012 at 10:52 pm #

    Hi, this is a comment.
    To delete a comment, just log in, and view the posts’ comments, there you will have the option to edit or delete them.

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