| People in the Park |
[Apr. 7th, 2011|11:34 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | sēd | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | gordon's snoring in my lap | ] |
It was Tuesday afternoon when a young woman walked out of the Oncology Centre, she was dressed a bit old-fashioned and strangely lacking colour almost like her clothes had been desaturated. Once out of the gates she hastened her step as if running away from misery and fright of that place. She was shivering with cold, despite the glorious day. This was the warmest April in years and people voluntarily escaped their winter hide-outs and crash the streets, but she felt alone. She walked down the street to the bus stop, then seemed to change her mind, turned round, crossed the street and disappeared between dwelling houses..
She wasn’t ill or recovering, she hadn’t lost anybody to that dreadful place, but she hated it, hated it for being so hard to bear. Like today – she had come to the reception’s section to see an elderly woman through, and even though she knew there probably was no hope, she still hoped for a miracle. Hope – that was what’s wrong about this place – so many people had none. They just came there to die and didn’t want anybody to support them through it. Suddenly she felt sick. She wanted to change her appearance, but she’d already done this today, when she adopted the look of that woman’s youth. Why oh why did she do that?! What ailed her? She wanted to see life and feel joy. She’d wandered to a park with a playground. It was full of children and laughter, so she sat on the benched and watched all those little creatures running and screaming with joy..
She knew no one could see her so she took of her shoes and put her legs up on the bench, in her reverie she didn’t notice a little boy coming towards her until she heard him say:
- Barefoot. You have no shoes, but it is no summer yet. Wroong!
She stared at him blankly for a while, then seeing how soon they’ll meet again, answered:
- How stupid of me! Thank you sweetie!
- Why are you crying?
- Oh, I’m not, there’s something in my eye..
- Let me see. I’ll blow and it will go away.
- It’s alright. Now run your mommy is looking for you! – ‘And there’s so little time left for her to look at you..‘ she thought ‘then I will come and take you away.’ She knew it would be a drunk driver, but still she felt enormous own guilt.
She stood up and walked slowly passed people and catching their connections to her – a woman with twins running round her and making her spin, had recently lost her father and this was her moment of freedom of sorrows. The single dad on the bench next to the one she just left buried his wife 3 months ago, she had cancer. There was a childless woman in the playground, watching children – she had 5 miscarriages. Down the small path stood a fiddler an elderly man, he wanted to die and go to his wife, dead for years. The girl sketching the fiddler from the bench was an orphan. Parents, friends, children, loved ones, even pets... All lost to sickness and accidents and old age. All met by her to go on... And all these people left here in the park to cope and stay.
She ran out of the park, but there was no place for her. No place free of her, of Death. She wanted the day to end so she could turn into a gull and fly over the stormy sea and feel the power of her wings and the existence in its purest way – struggle. |
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