Enter The Labyrinth

by Thadious Whind

Scene---The scene is an asphalt schoolyard of a turn of the century school house on a dirty, overcast, and cold December day in the modern day Northern Hemisphere. Six devilishly cherubic fourteenish boys encircle and taunt a hopelessly defenseless phobia filled pudgy boy with buzzcut hair and horned rim glasses.

They attack the phobic one with small bits of foreign objects which they stick in his ears, nose, mouth, down his shirt and undergarments. They tell him that these objects are live bees and wasps. The boy's eyes are virtually bulging out of his skull in terror. Commonsense has no chance of prominence in the wake of terror that caused his heart to race and pressurize the blood in his arteries and veins. No, a fear of death would not let him rationalize that there should be no bees and wasps in this time of year.

Piercing screams of the boy's anguish for the six to stop go on without yield. However, one of the newest to this group of six (Joshua) feels one of the screams, like a cold icy shaft, pierce his heart. Joshua's mind is sucked up into his self conscious as his spirit comes out of his body like a swirling white mist and floats over, around and through this circle. He passes through the minds, souls and hearts of the taunters and the taunted.

Enter C. Moore: Hello? (Song "Hello?" 1M zipped au file) Wizened face of C. Moore (Prophet and introspective Philosopher) intertwining with the spirit of Joshua, a mist of white is following his face from his white hair, like the trail of a comet. His face stops and starts as he makes points of logic during this song. Almost as if he is speaking to himself and Joshua. It seems as if their faces are synonymous.

Joshua thinks to himself, "I've got to hold on tight, got to rid myself of this fright." His fright was dual in nature. Does he fight against his own fear of loneliness and maintain the companionship of the boys, thus allowing the poor defenseless bag of pudge to be his sacrificial lamb in aversion of a lonely life. Or does he feel the warmth of a small, still glowing but waning ember deep in his soul that was once the roaring fire of pure child-like spiritual benevolence. Surely he could be the turncoat of the herd and defend the fat one, but only if he is ready to risk loneliness and possibly become one of the tormented.

Of course, there is risk of torment in both realms. However, lack of courage brings on latent torment (the torment of years gone past and not making a stand on one's own), and possession of courage meets torment head-on, suffering, but never succumbing.

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