IN ANOTHER PLACE AND TIME



'A Symbol On The Wing'  by  Trish

 IN ANOTHER PLACE ANOTHER TIME
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Once long ago, I entered a new city. Well it was really an old city, but new to me. It was a pretty place, with lots of sunshine, but, it was not my place. For months I tiptoed through the miniature park that led to the shops and the market. Many elderly people, and young, took the chance to rest for a while under the shady trees, babies rolled  and crawled on colorful rugs, while young mothers sat on the grass beside their babies and chatted. I would walk and think.

I lived in a tiny place not far from the lovely park. Three of its windows, were covered  in hand painted sunflowers. The man who lived next door and sold me honey, said a skinny hippy girl , with hair past her backside, lived in the place before me, and she painted the sunflowers on the windows, which, he said, she had no right to do.  Once he even saw her doing hopscotch by moonlight, and on  another night, when she'd been hopping around  out there on her own, for more than an hour, the new resident, a bald headed girl from upstairs, came down and joined her.

The honey man's mouth would twist whenever he spoke of the last resident, but twisted more than usual, as he related how, from that night on,  the skinny hippie girl began to regularly visit the new resident, then  she began to walk, arm in arm.with the thin bald headed girl  from upstairs ,and he couldn't believe their audacity, when one evening, from his window, he saw them standing side by side in heavy rain , dressed in the skimpiest of clothes, kissing and laughing like crazy loons! I didn't like the honey man, or the heat from his hand on the honey jar each time he handed it to me.

Being a regular at the market, I soon knew all the isles. This morning I noted a new stall. Incense burned , and drifted a slow mist of exotic perfume Jewellery of all sorts was pinned to boards covered in black velvet, the fashion jewellery glowed a life like light. The velvet boards lent  against whatever was handy. Scarves draped carelessly over two squat white cane chairs and over a small trestle. Some scarves hung from fancy wrought iron stands. In the warm miday breeze the scarves invited, fluttered, and waved  a sunny mood over the new market stall  .

Words printed in fluorescent pink, on a piece of white masonite, read, "Nose Studs Done Free With Purchase". The new stall holder wore a ruby red stud on the side of her own cute nose. "Does it hurt?" I asked. "not at all" she said.  After examining  trays of  ornamental baby like buttons, and the other trays of silver and gold nose studs, I chose a plain gold star. Without any pain to me, she quickly put the stud in, then held up a mirror  "It suits you", she said. I thought so too. I thanked her and went on my way.With the money I had left, I bought two onions and four tomatoes.  I kept touching the stud and wondering if it made me feel free or lost.

My uncertain mood, was with me most days, because, as I said,  it was not my place, and the only person I knew, was the honey man and I didn't like him.  So, there was no where to belong and no one to belong to. But that was alright, because as I tiptoed and touched light as the  beat of a butterfly's wings on all  I passed, and on all  that came my way, when  it came time to fly, I left nothing behind me and took nothing with me.