I wanted to write something different.
Something that you could later describe to a friend as quirkey or weird.
As long as it was not ordinary. As long as it stayed away from that black spot of the human mind where things are lost, hiding behind the affirming nods and understanding smiles. It’s the reason my trash bin is full of crumpled dreams. I rather see them sent to a landfill, transform back into the soil, than be trapped in the dark of an ignorant mind.
So this one here is my little astronaut, and he’s not afraid of the infinite space inside you. He wants to explore every crook and cranny in search of the thing that makes you tick, makes you laugh, makes you cry. He knows the risk, and he’s said his farewells to the family. There’s no coming back for him, and only enough fuel to travel past the ear canal. But he’s driven, and above anything else wants to place an eternal footprint on the spongy pink surface of your brain. I would ask you to care for him, but it isn’t in our nature to hold onto things like him. He’s not one of the greatest, but he dreams of being someday. Listen, the thrusters are coming in.
With a steady voice he’s speaking to you from his ship’s intercom;
This is the story of a boy.
Not his whole life story since that one has yet to be completed.
No this is just part, a scale on his body.
You see The boy happens to be a fish. Laugh if you will but I tell you it is true.
This is the story of when he met a girl.
And she was a dove.
And he called her dove as if he was saying the word “Love”.
He was tall, made slim to race in the crashing waves.
She was beautiful, feathers white as the gentle clouds.
And they loved each other deeply.
But he was fish, his life focused on the constant tide, and he wanted no change.
And she was a dove, the seasons calling her to fly, and never stay put.
And everything was soon to end.
But The Fish loved his Dove, so he grew legs and followed her the ends of the earth.
Chasing each other happily until the end of time.
By this point my explorer has landed, though I cannot tell the state that he is in or the world he is now a part of. I directed him towards you, thinking we were similar planets that he could recognize. But in truth I could never know. Either way, he has arrived.
And now I make my last message to him over his little radio that is firmly planted in between your ears, “Little story of mine, be proud of your journey. Though you now go behind the moon and out of my reach, I believe in your dream. Tell the others the story of a fish and bird, a seed that can grow into anything. In me it is already a tree and into the bark I have cut out you name that will last for eternity.
This story would later be the source of my published children’s book, “The Fish and the Dove.” I was so excited to find this short piece and share it with you here today.
The artwork featured in this story can be found here; http://www.misucell.com/WDF-229075.html
2 thoughts on “The mission of a story.”
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I find nod myself re reading- both favoring the story and eager for tomorrow
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