Work in Progress - for Thursday, 9/23

Prologue: of Sorts

Within the chapel of her contrition
Soles are cobbled to tread
contained within stones; beneath her crust of bread
untamed and bled; beneath the archway her mistress led
cleanse, contaminate, and rend
the folds of her gown
convoluted, courtesan; parasitic preacher
maintain her train; like those emerging from beneath the mound
If only fate could reach her (and show her anything at all)
it would simply be…

“You simply aren’t good enough!” exclaimed the slightly rotund mistress of the gallery. “You best be on your way you withering wench” she exclaimed, and with a simple gesture to the butler, the gilded doors to the estate came crashing shut. As if the sheen from the scrupulously polished marbled floor had never mirrored her reflection at all. With a pause, she sighed; and slowly began to tread the acre long gravel causeway back to the periphery of the estate; back to her attic room and the stench of rotting straw and damp timbers; she is heading back home. She considers herself an intelligent and refined woman…so she walks slowly. Not with the limp of some cell dwelling beast of combat; but instead resembling the rhythmic canter of the Mistress’ finest mare.
Past the wrought iron defenses of mechanical melancholy that drew the line between the Madame’s estate and the rest of the village. Into the shuffling and ragged collection of peasants, and what the Madame referred to as those of “pestilent pedigree!” Within and through this harlequin collection of townspeople she remembers one thing; She is not good enough…
As shadows lengthened throughout the narrow streets and alleys of the village; she trod like one who has suddenly found themselves fully immersed within the realm of dreams; though it was but a handful of minutes before sunset, and the bats had just began to emerge for an early breakfast. Her strides mechanical in appearance, she thinks about what the Madame had said, and decides with a gathering certainty… “That not only is she PERFECTLY good enough”, but the Madame would learn this particular lesson, someway, somehow,
Somewho
Who?
Not you.


A note from the Author:
This is just a very brief “skeleton” of a “young adult” or children’s novel that I came up with. I feel as though this character can possibly become part of a much larger story, concerning some of the figures that come up in this brief passage. I hope you enjoy it a bit, it is meant to be a bit whimsical and satirical in nature.

See you all in class!

-Colafrancesco