Wednesday, April 6, 2016

The Raccoon Returns

I don't know if I have the knack of it yet, but if I try...very hard...to listen,

I want to go.


Knowing it doesn't mean I have to do it, because with every action comes consequences and change. There are things that I might have to give up, obstacles I'll have to work through. Knowing it just means knowing me better.

And I want to go, because... (it should be self evident!!!)


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In the middle of a desert, on a sand dune, sat a girl. Next to her was a raccoon, cleaning his bushy tail. The late afternoon sun was no longer searing, and they were watching the shadows grow long against the dunes.

"He said I was better off without you," the girl said to the cooling air.

"Oh?" The raccoon barely looked up.

"Yeah. He said it was better if I went to the city and lived as a normal person. Maybe with a dog or a cat..."

The raccoon smiled. "Why haven't you left then?"

She stared at him. "Should I?"

His smile didn't change. "I wonder?"

The silence stretched. Neither broke eye contact. Finally, the raccoon sighed and turned his pointed snout to the setting sun.

"Stay or leave, either way you'll learn something about yourself. To me, it doesn't matter."

She had been playing with the sand, taking handfuls and letting it pour through her fingers. She let herself be lost in the motion for some time.

"I'll stay, I suppose."

"...And did you learn anything?"

She shrugged. A cold smile. "That I have a choice."

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