Wednesday, August 26, 2015

chain reaction of a king, EBR

When I miss home I walk myself to the very back of my yard. There lays a field teeming with broken snail shells and golden grass of mystery. 

I stare at the only disturbance in my field- a stump. Just tall enough to tee the very tip tops of it. I stand on it with great power. Then I look down and think of things I will never understand. 


I hear a rustle in my field and I call out, "Who goes there?" Knowing it was my dog. 


He looks up at me as drool drops from his tongue. He reminds me of a bear, big and black and fierce. But fuzzy on the inside and out. 




I hear another noise. I see my dad walking into my field. I open my mouth to say, "Who goes there?" And he says, "Before you talk I have to tell you something." Doesn't he know that no one interrupts the king? 


I was looking back at all the conversations that had started this way. 


This is how he told me my hamster died; this is how he told me I had to moved schools; this is how he told me my tarantula got out; this is how he told me my brother broke my crossbow.


 


I was trying to change the subject. I regretted this conversation. 

"It was I who broke the vase!" I proclaim standing up tall on the stump looking up to the sky. My subjects beaming with pride at my 'truthfulness-es'. 


He stands shaking his head in a smile, "I was just trying to tell you I am going to the store. And your brother is in charge."


I drop to my knees with fists stabbing the air, "No!"- I wanted to be in charge, after all aren't I the King?


 E. Beach Ries 8/26/15



Chain Reaction of a King was composed without the aid of paper or pen  It was created completely in the author's head in a single attempt and recited from memory for transcription and preservation.

E. Beach Ries is an 11 year old, Level 8 competitive gymnast with a significant visual disability. She has a deep passion for animals, a contagious brightness, and enjoys an incurable sense of curiosity. 

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