Once

You were king.

You were naive.

You were foolish. 

You lost. 

You had nothing. 

You were depressed. 

You were desperate. 

You believed in hope. 

You were let down.

You were deceived. 

You acted in anger. 

You were exiled. 

You were alone. 

You dreamt. 

You built a city. 

Then.

You were king again.

Jill Tracy - The Fine Art of Poisoning

Fear and Denial

My  footsteps were silent in the plush red carpet. The gas lamps that lit the hall cast strange shadows against the dark, exquisite wooden walls reaching up to the enormously high ceiling. Apart from a moth hurling itself against a lamp, there was not a sound to be heard. I looked back down the hall, it was very long and almost disappeared into the dark before it turned a corner. I heard a creak, it's strange how old buildings do that for no apparent reason.

A thought started to form in my mind, or rather perhaps, a creeping fear. But before the fear materialised, I felt a hand on my shoulder. "Peace my friend." came the rich and comforting voice of Julian. I turned and smiled with relief. Julian put his finger on his lips, "Change is good, but only when one is ready. Otherwise it will result in chaos." I nodded and Julian motioned with his hand, "What see you?" I peered down the hall and squinted "There must be a thousand lamps. I see red carpet and a hallway that disappears into the dark" Julian adjusted the black leather glove on his hand "It is well perceived, you note the light before the darkness. But there is more then meets the eye, my friend." The moth stopped flying at the lamp and fell to the ground motionless. I looked at Julian, "Will I become as such? I'm losing hope and I wear fear as a coat."  Julian's eyes twinkled, "Things will get better. Every ten minutes you'll come to a door. This probably doesn't make sense to you. Probably you'll go through life feeling like it's the inside of a huge concrete dome. But it's not. As I said there are doors everywhere. You can't understand until you can see, but if you can't see then you'll never understand. A paradox? I can't give you the answer because there is none. Everyone must make up their own mind about this."

I was alone in the grand hallway. The gas lamps shone against the beautiful deep red wood walls. I gazed at the designs and ornate cornices. The ceiling was almost hidden in in shadow, but I could see it was full of designs and symbology. I turned around and around, the red walls and red carpet glowed. The antique musk of the ancient building made my head spin, I saw faces laughing and screaming at me through the corners of my eyes. Then I saw it; a door. Only the slightest chink of light could be seen coming though the jamb. Suddenly I knew all along that there were doors. The memories came flooding back all at once, worlds within worlds, dreams within dreams. It left me feeling bewildered and my cheeks were hot. I felt out of breath and paused with my hand upon the doorknob, to let my heart slow, before turning it.

Forgetting Confusion

In the darkness and the cold, 

A voice like the wind bitter and old.

Cried out rebuke and brought to tears,

A naive young child of so few years.

"You lost the piece of the mirror you stupid boy." It all began to come back, the voices, the accusations and fighting. The child did that double sniff that happens when you're almost crying. Then I felt bad that he was crying. He had nothing in the world and now he'd lost the piece of the mirror... So anyway move along. Move along?

Uh, that's a little inappropriate don't you think?

Who are you? "Rose. I'm called Rose." said the girl. She had short, curly blond hair. The Moose took the pipe out of his mouth and snorted. "Rose" he said dryly "We're not in the fifties. Get a haircut..." A few bystanders nodded in agreement. Rose put her hands on her hips. "Which hair should I cut mister?" Everyone laughed and cheered and said things like "Good one." and "Women's rights." and "Why is she talking in red?" The Moose who was a musty old gentleman, tapped his pipe and said. "Now then young woman, shouldn't you be in the kitchen." "I hope someday you'll join us. And the world will live as one" A Rastafarian said whilst walking past. This proved to be too much for the Moose, "First there's women taking over the world, then these -hippies, I can't keep up."

"Chaos..." On the mountain far away a boy tumbles a stone of a cliff. Destruction follows. He is now a man.

Now we come to the scene with Jacqueline, she has red hair and she's rather mean.
"Take your umbrella, then you can use it as a shield against the thorns when we go black-berry picking." Of cause it didn't work. Brooke is such a master of bad ideas. The thorns just tore through the umbrellas. She should go jump in a brook. Haha good one.

Okay, whoa, stop. I thought that was Jacquelines idea. So why did Brooke get the blame? "Because she's weak." Said Jacqueline. Brooke started crying but no one noticed her tears becuase she had just jumped in a nearby brook. Life's not fair and that's all there is about it. Just like the boy who lost the mirror, he's forgotten and alone and nobody cares about him. You can only go so far, some things can't be forgiven.

The tunnels were laid by another generation thousands of years ago. No one knows why or for what purpose. The mirrors on the walls are always a puzzle because glass wasn't even invented when these tunnels were dug. Life had become like a black and white film. We ate porridge out of handmade clay bowls. We forgot the blue sky, yellow sun and green grass. Once something is forgotten it ceases to exist.

 The tunnels went on and on forever. We tried often to remember something we once knew and loved
    but it was gone from us. Had not our emotions gone, we would have panicked or become scared.
        Time became irrelevant. We only talked when we needed to. Sometimes we would stop and
               try to think, as though it was important but the moment escaped and left our minds dry.
                       One day the Moose came into the tunnel where we were resting. Every day we 
                              followed the tunnels until we forgot why we should do so. Our faces we 
                                    blank always for we forgot how to smile and frown. One day the
                                         Moose turned to us, he was smiling. "I remember" He said
                                               and pointed to a door in the wall, a root had slipped 
                                                    beneath it. "What is behind the door?" we just
                                                         had no interest or curiosity and had never
                                                               opened any door we came across.
                                                                    The Moose opened the door
                                                                        and we were back in the
                                                                            Library. It was over 
                                                                               and we forgot it.
                                                                                   Like a dream
                                                                                        it faded
                                                                                          away.
                                                                  

"Pass the tea please." Said Rose. I picked up the teapot and poured her a cup. "I had this strange dream about a tunnel" I said. "Sounds boring" said Jacqueline. The Moose looked over his newspaper at me with an odd expression. The Moth sat down and wiped some sweat from his brow with a shower of sparkles. "Oh my word" said Sally looking at the mirror above the fireplace. "It's as though I were trying to remember that I was trying to remember something but I can't." Jacqueline put down her book and stood up and put down her book and said "Poor child. Something odd just happened, but I can't put my finger on it." The Moose sniffed the air. "I can't smell anything, apart from tea and no biscuits." Jacqueline put down her book and stood up.

"What is my purpose in life?" queried Sally. Silence... "We're out of biscuits, I'll get some" She left the room. "Found it" Mumbled the Moose.

Smoke rises from the valley as the sun sets. The boy walks down the mountain with mixed feelings. More unsure of himself than before. Even the daisies don't cheer him up.

Split fingernail. Peaceful Silence

A horse is standing in the rain.   A dark grey shire horse standing in a field with it's head hanging down.   On one side of the field stands the horse.   On the other side is a hawk.   A hawk sitting on a post.   A brown hawk sitting on a post in the rain.   The horse is on one side and the hawk is on the other side.   They're at opposite sides of the field.   The hawk has a broken wing.   The bones in the wing are broken.   On the other side of the field stands the horse.   The horse is blind.   It's eyes are blinded and don't work.   On one side the hawk with a broken wing and on the other side the blind horse.   There's no sign of life.   Just the cold wet horse with it's head hanging down and it's blinded eyes.   And on the other side of the field is the hawk, sitting on a post with a broken wing.   It continues to rain down.   The grey sky is like a dirty, broken fingernail.   That is all.