Rough Cut Jewels
And a short story about stealing them back.
In my hands, I hold a vessel with no lid, and no way to entrap its contents. I squint my eyes, peering into it's shadowed depths. Inside I see a glint, a hint of something... almost a glow. As my eyes adjust to the dark, I can see two shapes. Golden-hued, seemingly lit from within. They are not sparking or shiny. They are not clear or clean. They are rough. The gems have chipped edges, sharp corners and are covered in layers of muck. It's so hard to see their amber-colored beauty that illuminates from within.
Once my eyes focused... I could hardly look away.
I was captivated.
Somewhere seemingly behind, or within me, I hear a voice:
"They were stolen from you once... and many times after; Now you hold them in your hands. If you want to keep them, name them... Do it! Name them...!"
I hear quiet, strong words fall from my lips:
"My Freedom... And My Love!" I spoke the names into the cool night air.
I hear the voice again:
" They are yours now! Take them... and RUN with them! Run as far as you can. There is no one left to stop you!"
About the Creator
Feral R. Wilder
Who we truly are is found between the lines of script, painted into the greys, beyond shades of black and white. Truth is always more captivating than the lie... and the world we create within ourselves is just as real as anything outward.
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