They danced around, jostling for position, tripping over each other to escape. They pushed and shoved, like a crowd trying to leave a football stadium through a single turnstile.
She had no way of knowing the order they'd appear, which would be spat out first and what might follow stumbling after. It didn't matter that, just before, they’d all stood inside together, singing an anthem in loud harmony, now they were disjointed, dispirited, disruptive. And once they had escaped there was no way to capture them and push them back.
When the stewards saw them, they believed the worst - that they'd come out to cause mayhem and destruction. She couldn't persuade them otherwise, she couldn't prove their harmlessness. Nothing she could do to turn them in a different direction.
Some days, there was no order to the words, no controlling them.
Some days, there was no order to the words, no controlling them.
19 comments:
Sharon, some days there is no organizing or controlling anything, whether it be people, actions, thoughts or words. Thought-provoking. Well written!
Really lovely and clever analogy, Sharon. Fab to fit so much into a short piece.
This so describes two young people I know who deal with hyperactivity disorder. It is so difficult for them.
Nicely done. At first I took this to be a mentally ill person, but then I realized I've had days like that, and the "stewards" behaved just like the ones you describe. So few words (in this case, well organized), so much meaning.
This post hit home. Thank you.
Love it.
Delightful.
What a fantastic analogy that can be interpreted in so many ways - it has really left me thinking.
I found your blog whilst randomly hopping around the interwebs and so glad I did; your writing style is inspiring. I look forward to reading on!
Precious expression of thoughts and experiences that otherwise go unnoticed... Loved reading you as always :)
Brilliant. This addresses so many problems; not least dementia.
Raymond - glad it's not just me! thank you, as ever, for your very kind comment.
Baglady - thank you. Dead pleased you liked this one.
Joanne - I'm glad this resonated for you. Life does just seem unbearably unfair for some people doesn't it?
Blissed out Grandma - thank you - I always think it's only me!
The Elephant's child - Sometimes, just after I hit the 'publish' button, I stop and wonder if anyone will understand what I'm trying to say - I'm always flattered and pleased when people find something they recognise - thank you.
Mrs Smith - thank you, much appreciated.
Marsha - I'm delighted you found it delightful!
Wayne - hello and welcome! I'm so glad you stopped by and very pleased that you stayed to leave a comment - hope to see you again soon!
Zahir - too kind, but thank you.
Pat - some days I worry about getting older, losing my memory and my mind. Then I remember I'm bonkers half the time anyway!
This was immediately familar. Brilliant, just the right words, in the right order, conveying so much more.
It reminds me of something ... I must see if I still have it.
Something tells me you have recently been to a football game and watched the bloody mess of people attempting to exit a stadium.
Excellent analogy, as always.
People always seem to interpret everything through a pejorative filter. Very frustrating - and I mean that in the best possible way.
I picked up a book on prose poetry recently because I wanted to understand what a prose poem is. This post seems to have all the ingredients of a prose poem except, perhaps, a specific intention to write a poem.
I couldn't read the words fast enough...great piece!
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