Friday, January 28, 2005

The bigger picture

She sat on the bench and thought about what to do.

It was not exactly what she would have called a nice garden. Traffic sounds from a busy street nearby surpassed the tiny birds’ melodies. She wondered if they were aware of the fact that they were not all singing the same song and thought about whether she should tell them. She noticed a plastic bag that looked oddly out of place full of clothes and personal belongings. How odd, she thought and looked around watching out for a likely owner. She was alone in this peculiar place and it was like time stood still on the inside while life passed by on high speed on the outside. She was very curious about the bag and slowly moved towards it, making sure no one was around to see her snooping. The bag smelled of sweat and tobacco and the clothes looked old and used. She was so wrapped up in her finding that she almost forgot her problems which had brought her there. The tears on her cheeks had dried but the nauseating feeling inside of her was still there. She deliberated taking the bag and give it to the local authorities in case someone had lost it. Still, it didn’t look like the sort of things one would miss and in the end she decided to leave it. Against her curious nature she accepted the fact she would never know who's it was and what it was doing there. She sat back at her place and concentrated on the off key birds.

She had been sitting there only for a couple of minutes when an old lady came and sat on the bench next to the bag. She smelled of sweat and tobacco. The old lady had a sandwich in her hand which she ate like a hungry animal. She finished everything but a little piece which she cut down to even smaller pieces and threw at the birds. She smiled at the girl and took the bag into her arms. At that moment the girl realized she was sat in the middle of the old lady's home. The old rags were all her earthly possessions, the birds her friends and the bench her bed. It put things into perspective. She departed the garden free. Free and thankful for how unimportant her problems were.

By Little Miss Loopy


1 Comments:

Blogger Professor Batty said...

...þeir eiga hjartað á réttum stað...

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