Reaching An Audience
(re-printed from The Birth of Road Rage — find the book here)
It’s not that I’ve run out of things to say, it’s that I’ve run out of people to say them to.
To gouge out the “I” is to court blindness. Your ego is all that you’ve got. Transcendence is a God act. Cut the false modesty crap.
Shave the hair off of Sampson and there’s a treasure map tattooed to his skull. How about them apples?
Is anybody out there?
Is anybody in here?
Three strikes with the bases loaded. You start explaining why you swung at the curve ball, but your teammates ignore you and head for the showers. They have a contingency plan.
Once upon a time there were three bears in a cottage. In walks Snow White, expecting dwarfs. Imagine her delight when she finds beds filled with black hairy creatures! A cottage industry. Love for sale.
Never-never land. Story time. Narnia. Keys to some kingdom or other. Fumbling with the lock after a night on the town. Mumbling the story you’re getting ready to tell to someone who once loved you.
It’s hard to know what triggers what. Where it all began and is it still going on?
People looking for answers don’t have any. A spare-change philosophy in a world of sparse handouts. Garth Brooks look-alikes trying their luck at the crossover game. Hey now, you with the stars in your eyes. Squirt in some Murine and go look for a job.
***
An audience is there or it’s not. You don’t persuade, you affirm. So reach out and touch someone, what’s to stop you? A flurry of false accusations? A hard-luck misunderstanding? Pack up your troubles and head down the road. It’s hi-ho time. When there’s no one left to talk to there’s nothing left to lose. Empathy at last, sliding into second with its spikes out.
Find John Bennett’s novels, short stories, and shards at Hcolom Press. You can contact him, or get on his Shards list at: dasleben@fairpoint.net
SEE ALSO
It’s a Cyrano de Bergerac world
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