What’s a Story?
“I’m still trying to understand….” I pause… “But again–I don’t really know what story is..” I say. “Can’t anything be a story? Like any sort of expression, a poem, or tv show?”
“True, the Skeleton scratches its head, though it doesn’t have a nail. “It’s hard to define story, but ya know, but what story here are those memories or stories in your life you think you’ve forgotten or purposefully ignore,.. lying around like dust-covered bones”, it then whispers, “or hardened soil… dun dun dun.” and strums a solemn tone.
“How do you know so much?” I ask, shivering a bit.
“When you’re locked up inside a person for enough as I have, you just know things, kid. Besides, maybe there is a world inside you that you don’t know about. For a slight moment, it looks pensive, looking up at the start-lit sky, regaining its focus. But let’s hold off on that and.. focus on what I still don’t know is why you’ve been running..”
“Well It’s by NO means tragic, I say. If I tell you, I’ll end up sounding melodramatic and that is what…”, the Skeleton, strums a dramatic note, so I quickly add, ” is something of importance to me.”
“A high, light note then.” the skeleton grins, or at least I think it’s a smile, because the lack of skin and muscle makes for an awkward contortion of the jaw. “Just speak your truth.”
I fumble. “Well uhh…It’s really long… you sure you want to hear it?”
“We gotta get this out of you…or I’ll keep stroking some pretty ugly soundin’ keys.”
” Okay..As I said, not that deep but..” I look at the skeleton’s bones, a visual aid prompting me to dig through fossilized memories to arrive at 2016. ” as I’m thinking, it hums, plucking its ribs and still roving the stethoscope around my heart.
The stitchmarks continue forming on the track—as I hear the sound of the dragon, screams waves– and now a sewing machine.. I look up at the sky and see a star. And recall a story.