Chapter 3 – The Silver Flute, Pt. 1

26 Sep

This is the story of a young woman who discovers that the mystery of life lies not in death but in the desire to live.

Like most people her age, she is deeply depressed by the current standard of living ie. those established by mainstream society to achieve the “American Dream”. Or maybe she is just the laziest sun ever risen. She feels the nineties have nothing offer. Money means debt in her middle class world of woe. She sighs, thinking of time past and wishes for a more romantic age. In these pages you will travel with her on her quest for a reason to exist, however far from suicidal she believes herself to be.

Life is a series of ironic jokes and disappointments to her. It is difficult to decide whether she should laugh or cry most of the time. Death is the worst joke of them all. Hell is reserved for people stuck on earth and heaven is what you make it. This is a mystery.

The Silver flute gave her confidence and put a song on her lips and she strode toward her favorite midnight meeting place. The neighborhood was not such that young women like her should feel secure, but she did. In fact, she felt safest in the middle of the road because if it was anybody’s territory – it was hers. Besides, a good solid silver flute hung over her right shoulder to be wielded as a weapon if ever she came upon trouble.

Not many things in her life gave her such a feeling of self-possession. At the age of 21, she was constantly reminding herself of reality. In high school she thought herself a loner in the midst of the popular crowd. An entire existence was birthed for her then, along with its twin—a passionate nature that would cause her much grief. She led her life as an Miller-Burroughs inspired adventure of the seediest kind. Her classmates were often under the impression she was stoned and she did nothing to disway them. Perhaps she felt her cover was better kept under a cloak of narcotic bliss otherwise known as sheer stupidity.

Furthest from the truth is what she shared with those she thought to be below her because the truth is we come from people much, much better than we are now. Or so her devastatingly shameful parents explained to her when she came home high again on their example, but all parents are equally disappointing to their teenage children. It wasn’t that her mother and father weren’t good to her. They gave her everything she ever asked for.  She was the only girl in her class with both of her original parents which has to count for something. The house was nice and mom always kept a beautiful garden in the front yard perfect for picking flowers for the teacher on the way to school.

It must have been a stigma – too much television and not enough veggies. She once smashed a roach on the forest green and gold shag carpet in her room and before she could find the nerve to pick it up and throw it away there were a thousand-trillion baby roaches feasting away on their own mother. Soon after, she packed up her Barbies and decided to move.

Her flute had been a gift from a friend of the family. Upon hearing her play he told her he could not keep such a fine, expensive instrument for himself – a mere novice. Yeah, he talked like that. But he was cool and he rode a Harley so it wasn’t like he was gay or anything and even if he was, well hell that would be cool too because he was big. Like, I’ll kick your ass just for looking at me sideways big thought I’m certain he never had to raise a hand because one look would have been enough.

To be continued…

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