A soft cry. I turn my ear. A frantic scamper, windows painted shut. Doorknobs rusted. She pounds now, desperate to get out, tugging, grunting -determined.
" Let me out! " she wails.
" It's too late," I shush her.
" No, No, there's still time..." she pants.
She is wide-eyed, wild- haired, barefooted, silver earrings swinging. Mostly I neglect her, forget she is there.
" Please..." she begs.
It's cruel to ignore her much longer.
She pounds again. Her bangles jingling.
I sigh, rocking my sheltered life.
She senses me weakening. Pounces. " I am the longing, you know it. I have your dreams, right here. " She reaches into the deep pockets of her long, flowing skirt.
I hear the delight, a burst of wind chimes. She drops a small dream; The colors: teal, magenta, yellow, shimmer at her feet.
She sees my eyes glaze. I reach for the dream, but she snatches it and stuffs it back in her pocket. " Not until you let me out. "
I shrug, " I'd only let it wither. "
" But I won't! " She promises.
" It' not that easy, " I tell her.
" Is THIS easy? This half-life of yours? "
I turn away. Embarrassed.
She entices. " Your dance, it's ready at my feet, your desires, cling to my hair. "
We both wait, in the silence.
" Let me show you. "
" Not yet, " I say.
" What do you wait for? " she snaps.
I lower my eyes.
" Think about what you want. Go ahead. Try it. "
" I'm afraid, " I tell her.
She puts out her hand, rings on every finger and whispers,
" So what? "
image from personal antique photo collection