Thursday, March 14, 2013

Story # 33: "Just You, Shirley"

This one started out as a slightly rambling prose poem, but I decided to break it up into paragraphs for easier reading. Not sure what inspired this, but it's written nonetheless and I rather like it. Hope you will too.  ~  JH


Surely you jest!, you state surreptitiously.

I assure you I'm telling the truth, and you know it but won't admit it.

The only one left alive?, you incredulously inquire.

I nod and, solely to be redundant, say "yes" just loud enough for you to hear me.

How did I survive?, you achingly ask.

It wasn't your time, or other such nonsense, I suppose – maybe you're just lucky.

I don't believe in it, you coyly counter.

In survival or luck?


Then chalk it up to Providence and thank your...blessed...stars, then.

I do everyday, you proudly proclaim.

Good for you, but I don't need a crutch.

Do I look broken to you?, you chidingly challenge.

No. I know it, but don't want to admit it.

How many people do you know –, you pleadingly persist.

But I interrupt you with a question of my own: Are you changing the subject now?

I'm making a point, you plainly point out.

Continue then.

How many people do you know personally who could go through what I went through and come out on the other side smiling like a fool?, you pointedly propose.

Outside of actual fools?

Yes, you nod knowingly.

Just you, Shirley.

And why do you think that is?, you strongly suggest.

Strength, fortitude, character?

Faith, you defiantly declare.

Simple as that?

Simple as that.

I'm speechless, pondering.

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