Sunday, 4 January 2015

TIME TO CREATE



I am a performer.

I walk out into the Great Hall at Storm Castle and come to a standstill in front of the Queen.  The guards at either side of me are extras but I don’t need a supporting cast.

This is my show.

The problem is that I don’t even get to play the part I want.  The true me.  The killer without a consciousness.   Instead, I have to pretend I’m sorry.

No chance.

My eyes narrow on the Queen as she speaks and I stifle the urge to burst out laughing at this farce of a trial.  We all know how it will end.  I watch as Povack, the pompous ass, stands in front of me dressed like a decorated turkey and reads out the charges.  Looking beyond, I see the girl who was my mission in the crowd.  Biting her lip, the beat of her breath leaping in her throat.  As our eyes meet I smile as I appreciate that for her alone I can be me.

I drag my tongue along my teeth as the declaration is made and I hear her scream.  That delicious, chilling surrender and I feel an unexpected emotion - appreciation for her reaction.  I needed it.

I am so bored. 

I am tired of being what everyone else wants me to be.  I am tired of society’s expectations.  I am done with doing something other than what I want.  I have had enough and I mean to do something about it.   

The drama of the extras ends and I am led away at the order of the King, if you could call him that.   I test the shackles around my wrists and know it is a matter of time until they are removed and I relish my freedom.

In the meantime, I am a performer and I am magnificent.



“Condemn me, deny me, it matters none,

The balance is gone, never to return,

I am but a shadow cast by all,

Yet man wonders why the mighty fall?

So when will the lamb lie with the lion?

That’s one prophecy I’ll never let happen”


Luther
@luthertkc