Saturday 25 April 2015

Animals in the City

The city is a scary place to be at night. It's dark, yet noisy; empty, but bustling; cold, yet hot. Well, you'd think it was hot by the way the girls are dressed these days: wearing fur fit to cover merely their most sacred places - almost.

Animals roam the streets, howling at each other loudly; their chatter a plethora of nonsensical sounds vibrating amongst themselves. Maybe I'm one of them - the way I live around here. I scrounge food wherever I can; stealing from bins, or shops; begging for food and drink. But, what can I do? Not all of us get to live in those big houses, being waited on hand and foot. Food, water, a place to stay - these are the things that I dream of.

I spread my body across the concrete and imagine. My imagination mutes my reality and I am where I want to be. This is where I should be.

Here, I am human. I am an equal. Fresh water, cooked food, and toys to play with. People talk to me; I make them happy and they make me happy too.

I'm free to take a walk around a park, a clean man, without the urge to roam bins or find shelter. I'm healthy and beautiful. I'm blissfully content.

My problems have faded to what am I going to do today?; what am I to eat?; who am I going to see? I like it this way and don't take it for granted.

A boot to the stomach and I'm awake. Conscious in reality. I'm unclean and dressed in the dirt of the asphalt I sleep in. I'm hungry - it's been hours since I ate. There's a man in uniform, standing over me, stradling me, with his hand around the back of my neck. He's taking me away.

He's dragging me to a van gracefully when a thought passes through my mind: maybe I didn't wake up. This is still a dream, and I'm being taken to a better place.

In this best-case-scenario the man feels sympathy for me, and his compassionate heart compelled him to save me. He's taking me on a journey away from my reality and into my dream. He sees my potential, behind sorrow of circumstance. He wants to make it better. He wants to make us equal.

But I can never be equal. I am a dog.

Friday 24 April 2015

The Beginning

People often say that taking half an hour of each day to do something creative is beneficial for the mind; often comparable to meditation. This blog should hopefully satisfy just that and be the home of short stories I will write for fun.

I can't really explain the Faerie name or theme for the blog to even myself, so I probably will not for now. Maybe I will write about them some day. For today, just an introduction for the page. 

Remember to join Faerie Tauntings in the tab on the right hand side so you can keep updated. 

Thanks,
F.T.