Sunday, July 10, 2011

Strangers


In the horse barn at the fair, among those rich and complex lives, no words I said or thoughts I had were worthy of their eyes. And by their measured blows, and echoes from the walls, I knew exactly what they meant: “We don’t want you here. Go back.”

8 comments:

Willy. said...

Alice... In wonderland!
Someone,somewhere,remembers...
Happy sunday,m,t,w,t,f,s....

William Michaelian said...

Happy Everyday, Willy. And thank you for reading back. Sometimes instead of Alice, it’s William.... in La La Land....

Tess Kincaid said...

Beautiful bit of writing. I like William in La La.

William Michaelian said...

It’s almost a place, and not quite a time; remembered, forgotten, ahead, and behind. Thank you, Tess.

Jan said...

William, I always love where you take my mind. I love your writings. You manage to say so much in so few words.

William Michaelian said...

Thank you, Jan. I’m delighted you feel that way. Whatever length a piece might be, I try to use only as many words as are truly necessary. I don’t always succeed, but I love to try.

erin said...

o. something is struck and falls to the dust. this is a hard one for me. belonging. i wonder and laugh at the lightness of you all as you chat over the blow. this makes me laugh even harder, puts life into perspective.

xo
erin

William Michaelian said...

Those glorious beings really put the fright into us that day. One or two we thought would break down their stalls. And they could have, had they wanted. But they read us well and knew their message would be enough. No chatting; only whispers.