The jester mocks and tells his jokes, Whereas the king, he hears his word, And both they laugh ‘bout funny folks, Of braveries that they have heard. And while the king is entertained, The jester smiles and shakes his head, For he’s a jester, friend and saint, Forerunners told him who are dead. The king is lost, they start to sing, They swap the crown for hat with bell, Who jester is and who is king, The servants ask, they cannot tell. by Salia Jansen
“Mum,” Susanna began in that whining voice of hers. “Why am I so much younger than all the others? Dorothy’s thirteen and Tom’s fifteen, and Scott and Elizabeth are both ancient.”
ReplyDeleteI snorted. Twenty-one was hardly ancient. She was just a baby, that’s all.
“Well, that was just how it worked out honey, that’s how God wanted it.”
Mum finished washing up and dried her hands on her apron.
“But why? Why didn’t he want me to have brothers and sisters of my own age to play with? Did he want me to grow up a loner or something?”
“Don’t question the ways of the Lord, Susanna! We don’t need to understand why.”
“Was I an accident?”
“What?”
“Louise Atkinson says her mum says I was an accident.”
Mum froze, mid-carrot peel. Her neck started turning red in blotches, then her face, She was scarlet. I stared.
It was late on Saturday night and I was the only one on the train platform, except these two lads. They were horsing around, clearly drunk, and I watched them because I had nothing better to do.
ReplyDelete“That girl would’ve given me her number if you hadn’t spilled her drink.”
“No she wouldn’t mate, you had no chance.”
The chubby freckled one pushed the big blond one half in anger, half in jest. They were standing too close to the tracks and the blond guy lost his balance. He wavered on the edge for a second, then fell backwards onto the line.
His friend, panicked, jumped down to help. I could hear the rumble of a train. He supported the blond one to climb to safety. I heard my voice screaming, “The train! The train!” I closed my eyes. When I opened them, the blond man lay on the platform. His friend was nowhere to be seen.
Thoughtful blog, thanks for sharing
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