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02-09-2016, 10:48 AM
I watch as a crowd gathers, suddenly aware of how small I am among them. Bodies not even touching mine feel as though they are pressing, breaths condense and become an oppressive wind. I feel the heat of life, the sheer mass of helovians crowding, wanting, chattering and living so obtrusively. I want more than anything to be gone from here, to lie on the earth and cry like a child born to no mother.
I want to be born only of air, of light, of an understood absence of things. This, at least, would free me of the burden of obligation. For I am obliged, I am always obliged. I am obliged to be a son, I am obliged to be a nephew, to have love for so many that mean so little to me.
Forming connections feels like reaching to pluck fabric with needle but finding there is no thread. What is the fabric but flesh, what is the needle but the pain of affection? I look up nervously, a soft whinny choking out from my throat as shadows of others cover me. I am not comforted in this crowd, I feel only more alone.
There are incontrovertible facts of my life. The rat-creature offers a choice between the fact presented to us and the mystery beneath the cloth. This cloth is here, this cloth is visible, what is below it is not. I watch people make their choices, some more obvious than others and some with more deliberation.
I'm not certain it's my place to make a choice at all, but if the creature insists I won't deny him the pleasure of his game. But I know this, and perhaps only this: life is at it is, there are no chances to change the world. There is no secret egg. There is no easy way out. There are the things you know, the things you cannot escape, and these are all you have.
Knowing this I step forward tentatively, nudging my nose towards the visible egg. Knowing this, I am filled with pain.
Milo picks the visible egg.
No Prior Refusals.
Wishlist: http://helovia.net/showthread.php?tid=21289
