I (sometimes) call myself Mr. Pondersome. I'm a rather wordy, weirdy person. I say hullo a lot. I write a lot more. While you're here, why not give some of it a read?

Sunday 24 August 2014

MAYBE ENOUGH TIME HAS PASSED (a.k.a. A Story Recently Used at a Wedding Reading. My Sister's Wedding but still...)

I dedicate this to Michael and Cherie Priestland, mostly because I dedicated to them once already. Yesterday, in fact.



            Two people. A man and a woman. They're in a big place, perhaps a warehouse somewhere, and they've only just realised how busy it is. Unfortunately the shapes and figures they see aren't necessarily human so they get scared and take cover.
            There's a crack of daylight up ahead, the man says.
            How can you tell it isn't just more indoor light? the woman asks.
            Indoor light never looked that clean, the man says.
            The man spots a few figures wandering towards the door. The woman thinks they're striding purposefully towards it, it's hard to tell given the conditions. Either way they're now in front but the daylight can still be seen. Now the man and the woman could wait a while until the figures have gone or they could just stride up purposefully themselves and try to get past. There's really no way of knowing which is the best possibility, like I said the figures aren't necessarily malevolent. Contrary to what many people would have you believe, there is no more shame in waiting than there is in pushing forward in these circumstances. The figures look just as nervous as the man and the woman do if perhaps a little more aimless.
            So the man and the woman sit there awhile, neither really sure for how long. They're both fairly certain that they lost their watches in different places before they met. Eventually the woman looks at the man and nods at him.
            Maybe enough time has passed, she says.
            It would seem that way, he replies.
            They both stand up to find that the figures have moved away from the door though not far away, they're just searching for a window. Taking this opportunity, the man and the woman race towards the door in spite of the darkness of the room and almost stumble on a few occasions. Then they make it to the door. One opens the lock, the other grasps the handle. The light catches them as soon as they open it. Perhaps they perceive the light in the same way or perhaps they don't, all that matters to them is that it is indeed outside light and that it's directly in front of them. They walk through and look around. They make a conscious decision of shutting the door behind them.
            We enter situations through one door, leave by another door, marking them both as we pass through. We sometimes stay awhile but it eventually gets too hot or too cold, too dark or too bright, too busy or too lonely and we have to move on to the next discovery.
            Entry or exit, there's always something ahead; something outlined with light and filled with potential for love, familiarity and togetherness. We keep going, keep ourselves going, keep each other going in its all-purpose name. It's a good simple name for a direction, a better name for a goal. We call it forward.


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