“Jonathon and The Collector”
Once upon a time, there lived a boy named Jonathon who loved nothing more than playing in the wild forests of his imagination.
He had a mother and father who loved him so dearly and friends of plenty of whom he danced with so freely.
But one day whilst playing by himself in snow, dear Jonathon met a man he quite surely didn´t know. The man said to him: “My boy, have you the time, for if you have none you can make haste with mine.”
Jonathon thought what a strange thing to say, for why would a man count existence away? “A second, a day or a week or a year, are treasures to keep, my boy, nothing to fear.” Jonathon knew that his musings were wrong, that time only is, in each note of a song. And just as a note may be grandiose and vast, a song that´s been sung cannot sing in the past.
“My boy you´re so clever, then care you a treat? I have in this bag a prize for your feat.” Jonathon smiled and ran to his side and tugged at the bag to peer deep inside. “My child if you will, reach as far as you can, a surprise for you waits at the stretch of your hand. Wiggle your fingers and tip on your toes, the deserve you desire is beyond your nose.”
Jonathon did as the strange man had said, he stood on his toes and he buried his head. When balance was lost there then came a mute cry from a brown hesham bag with a young boy inside.
How did I fail? Stranger please tell me why.
“You won me with logic but I fooled you with pride.”
The Collector moved on and he vanished from sight; into the darkness, away from the light. And inside his bag a collectable toy, with movable parts, a collectable boy.
-- The Lesson of Fear -- A Rising Fall ₢2012 C. Sean McGee
Once upon a time, there lived a boy named Jonathon who loved nothing more than playing in the wild forests of his imagination.
He had a mother and father who loved him so dearly and friends of plenty of whom he danced with so freely.
But one day whilst playing by himself in snow, dear Jonathon met a man he quite surely didn´t know. The man said to him: “My boy, have you the time, for if you have none you can make haste with mine.”
Jonathon thought what a strange thing to say, for why would a man count existence away? “A second, a day or a week or a year, are treasures to keep, my boy, nothing to fear.” Jonathon knew that his musings were wrong, that time only is, in each note of a song. And just as a note may be grandiose and vast, a song that´s been sung cannot sing in the past.
“My boy you´re so clever, then care you a treat? I have in this bag a prize for your feat.” Jonathon smiled and ran to his side and tugged at the bag to peer deep inside. “My child if you will, reach as far as you can, a surprise for you waits at the stretch of your hand. Wiggle your fingers and tip on your toes, the deserve you desire is beyond your nose.”
Jonathon did as the strange man had said, he stood on his toes and he buried his head. When balance was lost there then came a mute cry from a brown hesham bag with a young boy inside.
How did I fail? Stranger please tell me why.
“You won me with logic but I fooled you with pride.”
The Collector moved on and he vanished from sight; into the darkness, away from the light. And inside his bag a collectable toy, with movable parts, a collectable boy.
-- The Lesson of Fear -- A Rising Fall ₢2012 C. Sean McGee
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