Wednesday, October 3, 2012

Morning writing


         Once upon a time, there was a little boy who had become trapped in the body of an adult. You see, he had been a child for all of his life and had grown very fond of the experience. But one day, his body was no longer his. His body had grown several feet. He had stubble. People called him sir.
And the child inside the body remained unable to process these changes, which had happened so subtly and over so much time that there was no moment when they actually happened yet there they were.
Suddenly, the world had so many demands and it seemed as though it was impossible to meet them all. The little boy was terrified by the constant bombardment of responsibility and wanted nothing more in the world than to shrink back down to the size of the middle-schooler he felt he was inside.
So the little boy looked up at the light-polluted night sky and when he finally saw a star, he made a wish with all his heart. He scrunched his eyes closed and felt every grown-up piece of him willing himself to be young again. He bargained and pleaded with the cosmos to return him to being a child. An ache, starting in his chest, crept through his body until it reached his eyes and a single droplet rolled down his cheek.
He went to bed that night, expecting to wake up ready for the first day of seventh grade.
But that’s not how the world works, and the next day they turned off the water.
The little boy spent the day spinning in his mind coming to terms with the fact that there was no going back. That he would never again effortlessly exist with his means of living provided simply because he was.
The little boy took a deep breath and pulled out his pocketbook and wrote out a check to the Department of Water and Power. Then he got dressed, ate an apple, and left for work.
The next day, the little boy woke again, still in the oddly aged body of some hairy twenty-something. He rose from bed with a sigh and wrote another check, this time to the Gas Company. Then he got dressed, ate an apple, and left for work.
Everyday the little boy got up, paid for the things he needed, ate the food he had to, and worked the job he needed to pay for the things that kept him alive. Everyday it got easier and easier. He learned to manage his income and expenditures.
Then, something magical happened. The phone rang and it was the little boy’s mother. She asked him how he was and if was seeing anyone and that she missed and loved him and oh, won’t you come visit soon, I know you’re so busy but I’d love to see you. And the little boy told her he loved her too and he’d love to visit, but maybe next month.
He said good-bye and hung up the phone, returning to his morning bill paying. As he comfortably slid a bill into an envelope that was just the right size for it, a proud smile crept across his bearded face.