the birth of hope

a candle waiting to be lit…

Hope wanted to be born. She wasn’t sure yet if she was a thing or a being, and in the state she was in—not yet manifest as she was—well it didn’t really matter. All she knew was that she was needed urgently on earth. Very urgently. Strange things had been happening. Peculiar people had been chosen to be leaders. Fear was stalking the land, sending out messages in 140 characters until its mistruths took root in people’s hearts. Continue reading “the birth of hope”

there’s a war on

Édouard_Vuillard_-_Knitting_Woman_in_Pink_Dress_-_Google_Art_Project‘There’s a war on.’
‘No, there’s not.’ The boy shook his head at his grandmother.
‘Yes, there’s really a war.’
‘In the darkness, far away.’
‘But I can’t see it there.’
‘No, it’s on the other side of the world, and it’s very messy.’
‘How messy?’
The old woman reached for a mass of wool in her basket.
‘It’s like this,’ she said. ‘See if you can untangle it.’ She tossed the ball to the young boy. ‘Go on.’
The boy looked at it and then he looked up at her. ‘What? This is out of control!’
‘Go on, have a try.’ She took up her knitting and began to knit from a ball of wool that was neatly rounded.
Not like the ball that she had tossed him. There seemed to be a dozen different threads and they were tangled and twisted all around each other. He looked for the ends but couldn’t see any. ‘Can’t I just cut it up?’
‘Yes, that’s what we often want to do with a difficulty, destroy it, drop a bomb on it, tear it apart…’ The old woman shook her head slowly. ‘Take your time, you’ll find the end if you take your time.’