A Bedtime Story

Once upon a time, there was an iridescent blue and green orb floating through the sky- one of many orbs, some red, some brown, some gray, some multi-colored and all floating in their orbits each tiny in the whole but very important to their inhabitants.

On this particular orb lived creatures and plants that were as varied as the orbs in the sky and most of these lived in relative harmony with the others (except for the required circle of life and food chain scuffles), but one species was more problematic than the rest.

The main problem was that this species seemed to think itself as more important than the others- somehow some of them got the notion that the oceans and the lands and all the other living things were there to be used and abused without regard for any natural order of things.

And while other creatures and plants and residents of the orb were content to follow the natural order of things and tended to their own business without fanfare or fuss, this creature was not content to merely use and abuse other species, before long they started looking askance at each other

...curiously...skeptically...jealously...judgmentally...

They split up into nations and warred with each other and among themselves about differences of opinion- threw great walls of their own offspring at each other maiming and killing in the name of justice, and truth, and peace.

And in one tiny nation on that very tiny orb in the very large universe the ones who held money and power said to the others

"Work for us and we will keep you safe, and give you money and someday...if you work very hard, you can be just like us".

And the others said

"Well...all right".

But very few managed to become just like them because it was all a game and smoke and mirrors and the intent was always to keep the riches in the hands of the rich.

And the ones who held the money and power said to the others

"You aren't working hard enough- we'll have to take more of your money and you'll get less of our money because OUR money is making YOUR jobs possible".

And the others said

"Well...all right".

And less and less became rich because they had to work harder and longer and the 'trickle down' never seemed to happen but the 'edging up' of the price of things surely did.

And the ones who held the money and the power saw the beginnings of discontent and became concerned that it would be directed at them, because it WAS their fault and all- so they needed a division diversion.

The money and power people quietly planted the seeds of suspicion and fear among the others and warned ever-so sincerely

"You must not trust anyone who is different from yourselves- the diversity this country was founded on and flourished with is dangerous, dark, deadly, demonic."

And the others said

"Well...all right".

By now the money and power people were freakin' delirious with the (un-contested) belief that they were, themselves gods and goddesses and the others merely there to be used and abused...like the other animals and plants.

They decided to see just how much they could get away with.

"Vote against your own interests just because we tell you to".

"Well...all right".

"Hold up these signs calling for smaller government (invoking the Constitution) in one hand and advocating the taking away of all individual rights (invoking the word of God) in the other and believe there is not some sort of whole scale brain damage necessary for that to make a lick of sense".

"Well...all right".

"See your president? The one you elected to change all this shit? He's on our side- he's our guy now and the only way anything will ever go your way again is if he grows a pair and actually does what you hired him to do. But that's not going to happen now- we're too powerful and have all the money. We've raised all the prices and the cards are not only stacked against you, the deck is so far out of your reach you will never, ever even see it.

All your social safety nets- the ones YOU paid for? Gone.

Your jobs and the bargaining power to keep them fair and safe? Gone.

Your women, children, sick and elderly? Who gives a damn?

You all belong to us now."

And just as the others opened their tired dejected mouths, just as the first word came out wearily

"Well..."

One tiny voice called "Mommy- I'm hungry".

One wavering voice asked "Why don't you respect your elders? We are worthy of respect and dignity".

One female voice whispered "I'm afraid, afraid for myself and my future and my daughter's future".

Voices tiny and singular, leaves on a tree flashing in the breeze, capturing the energy of the sun and transferring it to the trunk and roots.

And the others paused long enough for the fog in their brains to lift, the weight on their hearts to dissipate, the veil over their eyes to dissolve and they saw their families, their loved ones, their friends...suffering.

And as a single voice the country was rocked by a thunderous

"This is NOT all right- this is BULLSHIT!"

Reality says this is a fairy tale.

Hope says oh please, please let it not be.

And the iridescent blue and green orb floats in the sky, and the sky hears nothing.

A Writer's Block Fairy Tale

Once Upon A Time there was a middle aged, frumpy hippiechick who typed words into a magical black box. Even though she was sitting deep in the beautiful Pineywoods of East Texas, through the wonder of the interwebs, these words flew up and out of the magic box, and wafted all over the world, settling into other magic black boxes and were (mostly) enjoyed by the (tiny) throngs of readers who followed her adventures.

Sometimes her words were humorous and made people laugh, sometimes they were sad and made people cry, alot of the time they were very angry and every so often they were words that get children's mouths washed out with soap.

One day the words stopped coming.

Just like that.

It had happened once before, when her husband was very ill and the words up till then had been all cheerful and humorous. For a long time she didn't feel funny, or happy, or even remotely fine.

She was sad, and worried, and the words were afraid to go near her.

At the time, she was so sad and worried, she didn't even notice.
At the time, she was so sad and worried, once she noticed, she didn't even care.

Now it seemed that the words were afraid again- even the bad ones.
And this time, she did notice, and she did care.

Not that there wasn't anything to write about- they had just had a little road trip and seen and done alot of neat stuff that could've used up some happy traveling words.

They were back at the cancer hospital for scans and rechecks and although her husband's graft looked great, he was still very thin and kind of weak and there was that annoying spot on his neck that refused to heal, so that could've used up some worried anxious words.

She was very tired and had spent the better part of the last few days driving, so that could've used up some exhausted maybe partially garbled up words.

Things at work had been stressful and needlessly awful and that could've used up some angry fed-up words.

The gardens were growing, the puppy was adorable, her son had done fabulously well at his tae kwon do tournament, and her husband was still and would always be her Knight in Shining Armor, so that could've used up some contented grateful words.

And they'd gotten some good news on the New House front- as well as some people who would hopefully fall in love with the Old House- positive and tangible moves forward in a part of their lives that had seemed to be spinning in circles forever, so that could've used up some hopeful cautiously optimistic words.

But instead, she sat at the magic black box and started first one story, then another, then another, and she proclaimed them all Stupid, and hit the Off With Their Heads Delete Key in disgust.

Finally she threw up (her hands in frustration), decided she was just too tired and had too many thoughts swirling around willy nilly hither and yon without any damn semblance of order in her mind causing all the words to scatter and stampede into nonsensical little twitchy clumps, and even though she had promised herself she would write something every few days and it was now beyond that by several days

she gave up.

The End.