He turned away. The sight was too much for him. A sob erupted as his mind displayed the image. He fought it--and subdued the flood.
It was only a plastic ringlet. Not large enough to fit a child's finger; you would sweep it up with so much dust if it were on the floor. But it wasn't on the floor. Its placement against the tender skin of her back, near her shoulder--the juxtaposition of such innocence and such paste caught him off-guard. Did she believe that this meaningless circle of plastic could enhance her beauty?
Was this his doing? Had he believed that lace and frill could add beauty to one so priceless--to this one so dear?
Garnering the courage required by his questions, he looked-up once more. It was still there. His eyes studied the lace it joined from above and beneath. Surely there was no intrinsic need for the cheap accoutrement.
And then, as if the lens of a camera adjusted its focus from the foreground to some distant vista, he lost sight of the garment, and saw its wearer. The seeing brought some recognition. He somehow comprehended the vast dignity of this person...this soul.
He wondered how any one person could ever expect to possess her? How any mere mortal could be so arrogant as to try? He marveled at the priceless treasure before him.
The music passed like a cooling breeze on a hot summer day. She lifted her arms once, as if to catch it, or send a bit of the sound back to its source. She tried to listen to the words of a man telling her the thing she already knew--she is not quite good enough. But, if she'll repeat some words after him, she'll be OK. Though she had tried the words before, she whispers them again. Her voice is aimed away from the boy she's with. The boy is looking at the plastic ring, and thinking of how she can be used to answer his prayers.
And as they stand to leave, she feels the boy's hand on her shoulder. The man behind them cannot see the plastic ring. The boy's wrist is hiding it.
The boy feels flesh.
The girl feels loved.
The man feels another sob ready to shake him to his core.
10 comments:
OK, so this is obtuse writing. I write things like this thinking they are perfectly clear, and my wife says, "Um, that was obtuse. I didn't get it."
So suffice it to say, it makes me sad that people find their value in marketed drivel.
If you have any questions, you are welcome to ask. Otherwise the mystery lives.
even if i indeed had to ask what exactly did you mean, i wouldn't call this kind of writing "obtuse" (that word sounds weird)... i would rather call it "deep" or "subtle".
and the emotions were almost palpable. therefore, *thumbs up* once again :)
It leaves me wanting to read more.
This is actually a bit of something I have planned for a book. It will be in a different setting, but similar feelings. I can't tell you what, but you would like it.
Yes, I think so.
It's so heart-wrenching. I could almost cry reading it. But I enjoy feeling that way, oddly. Such a rich emotion. I like living there.... for awhile.
Ok..I'm going to be perfectly and 'obtusely' honest, I didn't understand it. :) BUT...I couldn't quit reading either because i wanted to know what exactly the plastic ring represented. And why this person was standing by idly. Was someone being hurt? Were these children at play? Was he the father of the bride? :) I LOVE these types of readings but they also drive me crazy trying to read into something that might not really be anything. Or is it...?
Noel
I thought father of the bride, too, Noel.
weird.
When i was writing this, it didn't dawn on me that i was being cryptic. No father of the bride here. No intent to be obtuse.
A young teenage girl is wearing a fancy strap under her sleeveless shirt. The lacy strap has a plastic ring (strictly for decoration) connecting the bottom and the top parts of the strap. She thinks it is sexy, the man siting behind the girl and her boyfriend (in church during a sinner's prayer) is sad that she is thinking that such a cheap thing makes her valuable. He wonders if the male temptation to stare, including his own, is the reason a girl would wear something of this sort. Is it the stares she is longing for--that make her feel treasured/loved?
The worship music ends (where she is also seeking Love) and the sinner's prayer is led (which she has prayed before, but having no one to explain and demonstrate to her the depths of God's love, and since only this frail level of spirituality is being offered, she once again fails to find the Love she needs.) So she leaves with a boy's arm around her back. A boy who is also seeking Love by exploring lust's pleasures.
As I remember it, that is pretty much the thing in a nutshell. However, the concept is one I thought of for a book in an adult setting. I once went to clean up an apartment a young girl had rented, and found her cheap lingerie spread about the filthy room after her short-term boyfriend had left her. It saddens me to think that cheap paste, or frills makes women feel special...more special than they are in reality.
But that's the beauty of it.... we bring our own "stuff" to the story and make it our own!
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