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boxterjulep

Member Since 2002

Followers 50 Following 31

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Monday Dec 16, 2002

Dec 16, 2002
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Her life would be a misery if she didn't have her magic rope.

How amusing.

How trite.

I saw it in a cartoon once--No, no, no!
Listen. This was a godsend.

She couldn't explain where it came from. It first appeared in the first grade. It dropped from the sky along the patch of woods behind the playground just beyond the swings. She had been sitting by herself playing with dandelions in the grass, looking at the milky white goo that oozed from their hollow stemmed wounds after she plucked them from the ground. A daydream child that kept to herself, but she needed something more to escape.

So there it was one day. A rope. Tightly coiled. It unraveled and swung in front of her face while she picked dandelions.

Her first instinct was to tug it.
Sturdy.
Next instinct, to yank it.
Didn't budge.
Questions arose:
where did it go?
Where did it come from?
No reply.

She shaded her eyes and looked as far up into the sky as she could. The rope went up and up and up and up...she could see no end. So what did this girl do? She climbed. No one else noticed. She climbed and rose high above the earth. The rope would not fail her. She knew this. Don't ask how, she just did. She was never afraid.

When she could climb no further a place of fantasy, cotton candy, no angels but still a place more pleasant than any of our dreams could yield would open up to her. There she would lay, eyes closed, a faint smile, a comfort unlike anything the world below could provide. Peaceful. Time stopped or so it seemed. No one would miss her. She could stay there forever.

Yet, a daydream child knows that even the best of things must have its opposite by which to measure the pleasure she held so highly. The rope would continue to drop by in life, she knew, somehow, don't ask. She'd go on living below working the 9 to 5 like others, shopping for groceries like others, worrying about bills like others, spending time with relatives like others, suffering, loving, hating, laughing like others, but in the end, there was always escape. A rope that provided her with sanctuary. A rope that took her out of a world with burdens, good or bad. A magic rope.

You may have heard stories like it, but trust me, this one is real. She told me herself and I believe her. The way she described it, I know it must be true. She said she'd let me go up with her one day. An invitation unheard of until now. I can't wait!

VIEW 25 of 29 COMMENTS
_michael:
ah, you reminded me...
Dec 16, 2002
myngus:
i have a rope like that
it is made out of hemp
my rain wish came true
melrose is flooded and now all the expensive knock-offs will smell like mildew
good writing there boxman
Dec 16, 2002

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