Sorry, hello all. Now, I'm sure you're all sick of me writing what amounts to: "Just another week, please?" on every week, so I thought I'd actually give you something to read. Therefore I've delved into my collections of short stories and puled out something a little different.
It's called: The Wordsmith Apologises. I suppose it's a sort of a monologue for a character who doesn't exist whom I've given the moniker Wordsmith to. It sprouted from an idea I first read in Terry Pratchett's wonderful book Wyrd Sisters that there is a resoundingly true metaphor between the concepts of words and of water. That though some might perceive them as being weak, they can in fact bring down mountains, slice through continents, kill entire armies, or bring joy and happiness to hundreds. It's a metaphor that I found particularly striking and so decided to incorporate into a piece.
In the piece, Wordsmith, a person who is extremely talented at using words to manipulate people and create acts of great good or evil has found himself/herself in a situation that he/she finds that he/she cannot escape from through words alone (or can he/she?). His/her troubles originate from a woman/man (don't they all, eh, men/women?) whom he finds himself/herself in a position with wherein he/she has to apologise.
It's the sort of thing I write with the intention of eventually putting into a piece of literature. I may do that eventually, or perhaps turn it into a poem, it might work better as a poem. For now, it's just a fairly mediocre stand-alone piece.
It's not comedic, it's pretty unpolished, it's probably ludicrously pretentious, and it goes a little something like this:
The Wordsmith Apologises
You know that I have always been a great believer in the power of words.
I have always despised those to whom words are weak and meaningless. Words can change the world. I am fascinated by the way in which a chemical impulse leads to an electrical impulse which in turn leads to the movement of the tongue, lips, larynx and lungs to create susurrations and vibrations in the atmosphere that travel such a short distance in the grand scheme of things but which can break a heart or mend one; that can raise a thousand voices in song or lead young men to die for a cause they don’t believe. Or such impulses could lead to me scratching brief sigils, in which case I could change the hearts and minds of men and for years to come. People in the far future could know what I thought and felt and saw.
Words are soft, yes, like water. But that comparison extends far beyond that. Words are like water; enough of them can change the world. They can break your heart like a sunset on the calm sea. They can bite and pierce like frozen rain. They can take you and swallow you up in their passionate fury. They can bring the mightiest mountain down to dust and sand or teach the dirt to live and breath.
In time, they can change anything.
Almost.
But I know, that some things water cannot wear away. Some things are always renewed. Which is why I know that no matter how many times I whisper that I’m sorry, I cannot change what I have done. So rather than say I’m sorry a thousand times, and hope a thousand droplets form to make a wave that I know can never pull you back, I will say it only once, and hope that the water that rolls down my face is stronger than all the ocean.
I’m sorry.
So, there you have it. A short, not very good piece about a man/woman who I haven't really created yet.
Well, that's all for now, so goodbye.
Waiting in anticipation for the character to evolve!
ReplyDeleteI want to read more!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
ReplyDeleteThanks guys for your kind comments!
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