Disillusioned
Disillusioned
She remembers her childhood.
The thrill and new penny feeling of being outside when the sun has set! When shadows drew shadows that grew shadows.
The intoxicating sense that she wasn't being a “good girl”, that she was doing something forbidden. A feeling only, she had no words to define this.
All things were alive and friendly, all things and all people loved her. Never had she known low morals, harsh judgements, base emotions.
Why, an eight or nine foot tall mouse with a silly name and gloves was exciting and fun! Something she laughed at and clapped her hands with joy! A super friend she could play with…
…not a terrifying diseased rodent, protecting itself from fingerprint analysis, with idiot, inbred eyes and needle- sharp teeth hungry for her blood!
No, to her child eyes, her still under warranty, blue eyes, the crescent moon was a smile on the friendly face of the night sky. The two brightest stars, the eyes, that look at her with approval and decency.
A Montage of calendar pages rip away and float off screen …
…and we watch as the young blue eyes subtly change. They slowly lose focus and begin to look past us into the distant past, the soon to be future? Who knows.
She remembers her childhood.
When she believed no one meant her any harm. When she trusted that the dark night face of the sky, the crescent moon, was a smile. Looking down on her with love.Now…
...Now…
That bright crescent moon looks like a sneer. A sneer on the face of the demented, psychotic sky…
…leering at her.
LEERING. At. Her.
Copyright ©
Crystol Woods
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