Strictly Distraction

The urge to debase myself, to plead, is always stronger than my need to maintain a semblance of dignified splendour. Shall I then tender my resignation to propriety and do something foolish out of a lack of sobriety? Notoriety would be the only result, though. No: I have more pride than that.

Instead: Hold back, keep to yourself, make your face go blank. Your blue funk shows—tuck in your knees and elbows. A better way to waste your time: put words beside each other and feel smug when they rhyme.

Small Selves

Inside of giants, remember, is a tiny version of their selves, easily spooked, will run and hide in a hollow limb or duck behind organs if you move too quick. Wait a while, though, lie still and be patient: it will peek out of giant eyes and look at you hesitantly, quizzically, it will climb out of a giant mouth, hoisting itself up over giant teeth to look at you hesitantly, quizzically, look at you with quiet tender eyes.

Look there, now, you have frightened it away! It scampered down through the neck and slipped past the heart and wriggled into the gut, hid there, pulling intestines over its head as cover. Look, you have frightened it; it is frightened of you now, perhaps forever.

Forever? Wait a while; lie still; be patient: perhaps it will peek out again someday, hesistantly, quizzically, bringing you pretty rocks from its garden and seashells and smooth coloured glass that it found at the beach.

Trust

There once was a king who lived in a great castle on top of a hill. The heavens smiled upon him, for his kingdom was bountiful and every year his fortunes grew. He filled his castle with rich tapestries and golden sculptures; his royal self he clothed in robes of velvet. He adorned his queen with precious gemstones and together they dined every night on sumptuous feasts of the plumpest beasts and fowls in the realm.

He was known far and wide as a generous man. "I love my people," he would declare, and to cheering crowds he would announce from a turret of his castle that he would share his wealth with his subjects. For instance, one morning he announced that a fine pheasant would be given to any commoner who entered his courtyard the next day.

That evening, under cover of night, his royal guard built a moat around the castle. There was only one drawbridge, and when the people of his kingdom came the next day, it was drawn. They shouted at the guard and implored him to let it down, for the generous king wished to bestow pheasants upon his people. But it was to no avail: the cruel guard would not be moved.

Another time, the king announced that he would give out a deer to anyone who entered his courtyard the following day, and the citizens—who by now were starving—were greatly heartened. But that evening, under cover of night, his royal guard dug a deep pit around the castle and filled it with sharp spikes. In the morning the citizens could not enter.

Then one day, a vile, treasonous young man riled up the people of the realm. "The king has riches," he cried, "while we are starving! Let us storm the castle at once!"

An angry mob soon swelled the grounds before the castle. They carried such weapons as they could find—hatchets, staves, kitchen knives. They came by the thousands, their weapons clanging, their hoarse shouts roaring, their rage echoing all through the land. And then with a final cry they descended upon the castle.

They got only so far as the castle courtyard before the guards mowed them down. The ground gleamed red with their treacherous blood.

The next day the generous king shook his head with great sadness. "I cannot trust my own citizens," he said. "I loved them and they have betrayed me." As great tears rolled down his weary face, he ordered that his castle guard should be tripled and two new cannons should be installed.