Monday, July 12, 2010
The mask grasped at my pre-ego id through a window surrounded by little doggies and maternity chocolates. It wasn't supposed to be there. A glint of gold in this darkness. A spot of white in the mud of the day. It was the blue hue of hero. The eyelets of responsibility. Was it brought across the waves by happenstance, this onesie of power? Or did the importer know its importance, sense the longing of the little boy trapped in the body of a newborn's dad?
It must be his, I panted aloud. Left alone, it may fall into hands of evil... or at least those careless enough to feed without a bib. The price, ridiculous, seemed paltry in light of the memory it soothed. There would be no satisfaction in plastic wrap held aloft. It required freedom from it's aftermarket packaging; set loose to make another day glow in the eyes of forever imagination.
Will he wear it and feel the tingle of heights sought by the wall crawler himself? Or will it be as the dreams of a father for his son, destined for distraction as his offspring searches out new mysteries and discovers the previous unknown?