Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Prunella's Walk

Prunella Started into the Forest. Her breath came out in little fluffy clouds before her face, although the darkness of the night kept her from seeing much. She walked like someone who carries another life upon their shoulders, one that is heavier than their own. Her shoulders were rounded and hunched against the the cold, and braced to carry the burden that others could not see. Her footsteps were heavy, and inside her brain an argument raged that sometimes emitted fragments of verbalizations. Prunella was ambivalent at best about going to Grace for help. "why should I?" she blurted in anger. "The Rats," she answered herself. "She never came to my Party...she was my friend," she said in resignation. "I will not cry," she said, and answered herself: "after all this time, you should."
Whatever the argument that battled in her head, Prunella's feet knew the way to Grace Tenderstitch's home , even in the black night, even in a forest of naked trees armed with daggers of ice upon their limbs. Sometimes feet are the best deciders, and have the very best judgement when all else fails.
Meanwhile at the Baggaraggs, the residents were trying hard to settle. There was a restlessness that did not result in any kind of Peaceful sleep, and tension hung in the air, with apprehension holding its hand. The creatures of the Baggaraggs dozed but their little bodies were still partially vigilant, trusting not the silence of the night. Ernie the Night Watch- weasel was fully awake at his post for a change, and heard the footsteps before he could see who approached. "Who is that? Who goes there? Who comes to the Baggaraggs?, " he challenged into the night.You can imagine his surprise when Prunella Fig-Pink materialized from the darkness.
"Its Prunella Fig-Pink...I was once a friend of Grace Tenderstitch...I need help," she said wearily. "The Pie-rats have taken my home," she added.
There are places to leave a burden like Prunella Fig-Pinks. Sometimes the bearer simply decides that life is too interesting to carry such a trouble with them, and leave their anger, and sadness in a place called Forgetting. There are some who seek to tell another when their hearts are troubled, and do so in love. The joining of thoughts like these are sometimes a magic for sadness, and the empathy that results is like a tangible balm, that evaporate the trouble. It is like the sunshine that clears the cloudy day. There are those whose coping muscle is weak, however. They are the Collectors of troubling thoughts. They are the storers of anger, misdeeds and outrage. They have their reasons for doing so, and would deny these angry collections if confronted with it. It is a choice, I suppose. Prunella had the unfortunate disposition of being a Collector. In seeking Grace's help, she had a chance of seeking healing in the magic balm of Love, and empathy.


Debra said...

I love the last paragraph-well written and lovely. Grace truly is 'tender' and her name fits her.
Love, Debra

Mary said...

What a wonderful, talented writer you are! Most amusing.


Julie said...

WONDERFUL!!!, I agree with both Debra and Mary, I do n't what i can to add, except, Thank you for gracing us with your wonderous talent. We are indeed blessed by it, Hugs,Julie