Wednesday, June 17, 2015

the weight of tomorrow

It was as though ten thousand fools had the same bad idea, all at once, and then each fool brought four friends.

The streets bloomed in riotous revelry. Women remembered themselves and made cheer. Children shouted incessantly and scampered through teeming streets. Men danced in doorways, mounted benches, and ran naked beneath the sun. Bakers forgot their wicked tricks and traded pies for song. Ale flowed from every direction. Ten thousand joyous words were sung, from all directions, in a dozen different tongues.

All doors were flung wide. All spaces made public. All faces broke in twain to smile; all the while they all tried to forget tomorrow. That one day the repression was lanced like a boil, to drain out that held within.

For they knew the next day must come. The stonefaced god would then open his jealous eyes.

They had only that day to be human. Every drink slowly soured. Every smile turned desperate, haunted by the specter of horrible god.

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