“What do you see?”
The sky was of a strange pinkish colour and the wind was cold when he stood out on the street, just breathing out into the air. He could see his breath, it formed little clouds, blown off after just a moment. And if he looked closely, he could see other things as well. Figures, shades, feelings, kisses, masks, all sent out to the world as he was breathing. The question was, if anyone else could see them as well. Hm?
Of course, not everybody knew what he knew. In fact, there were only very few people who shared his special knowledge. A very simple thing but yet something that many found hard to believe: that there was more than you could see, so much more if you looked for them. Those things were not strictly speaking visible to anyone, not even to himself. Sometimes he would sit in his room and see something, maybe only a light, floating around, but only for a part of a second. With the next glimpse it vanished. He would try to look closer but the light would keep fading away. A few hours, maybe days and ideas would pass until he would think of the light again. And then he could really see it, could see how it fluently made its way through the room and could see how it was not only a light but a spark trying to light someone. He would kindly ask the spark to use him, so that he could make it visible by turning whatever the spark could give to him into something that the world could see. For them to see that there was more than they could see.
His favourite spot in the city was the old cinema. It was indeed very old, just the ads outside for the movies inside told a different story. In the ad boxes, behind some glass, visual effects was all that he could see, stereotypes playing the lead in the remake of the sequel to the prequel. But there was also one ad box that always stayed empty because the glass was broken and no one thought it was worth fixing it. They did not put an ad into the box, maybe, he thought, because they were afraid that one of the stereotypes could escape. Sometimes he stood in front of the box and saw what could be in there, what it would look like if it was filled up with creativity. He thought about placing a glass of jam in there, for some to have a riddle, for some to find a solution and for a few to find that there was someone sharing the secret. He was still thinking about this when he walked away, leaving footprints of different colours, languages and emotions and a cat behind him.
“What did you see today?” she asked when he entered her house.
“A lot, none of it chicken. But I’ll draw you a picture later to show you” he answered. “How about you?”
“Not much today, just the regular Fear looking through the kitchen window shyly.”
“From inside your house or outside?”
“From inside of course, he wouldn’t dare going out.”
“Wait” he said. “The Fear does go out sometimes, not often, but it happens.”
“Yes, but then he completely loses himself, he is not himself when that happens.”
“Agreed. But where does the Fear go when Courage takes over?”
“I’ll have to think about this” she said. “But a very good question, indeed.”
“Thank you, and I’ve got another one. You wouldn’t have a glass of jam by any chance?”
“Oh, of course, I’ve got it right here” she said, took the glass out of a drawer and gave it to him.
He smiled happily and left the house. It looks pretty normal for such an extraordinary girl to live in, he thought. But would it sill look that normal when he turned around?
“What do you feel to see?”
Note: Okay, I don't know exactly what I mean to say with this, so if you do, please tell me ;) My vague idea was showing how life can be better with a little imagination and creativity, as this website definitely shows. It's about giving some of this to the world but the world must also welcome those ideas, basically. I think. Is it bad that I actually don't know how to describe my own work?
Created: Dec 29, 2010DramaElisabeth Document Media