At a podium. Silence.
Can you hear that? She looks at the audience. Her ears pierce through the silence, drag stray noises, gather barely heard echoes. They hear it. They know they can. The sound of hope. The sound of despair. Roaring in her ears. The insurmountable, unforgivable, unforgiving, rolling, crawling, brawling, trawling, enthralling sound coming from right here. The pounding drum of truth. The howling of hope, the glimmers of despair. The lights of imagination flickering on and off across the globe.
Silence. She is still. She is quiet. She lives, breathes, eats, loves, plays, dances.
Touches. Doesn’t touch. Deliberately doesn’t touch. Delicate. The situation is delicate. Times to touch, times not to touch. Choose carefully. Emote with dignity. Emote with clarity. Precision. Make them understand. Make them believe. Give them faith. A gift of faith. She connects with the audience. They don’t even realise she’s doing it. Gives them a reason to trust her, listen. The audience begin to fidget. She readjusts herself, squeezes them back into her understanding.
Give me this. Let me take this. Let me help you feel this. I know you can. I know it’s there. I know you want to.
Don’t you? Don’t you want to?
Aren’t you sick of this? Sick of the competing, comparing, time for sharing declaring our sense of caring – despairing of our lost chances to change the world?
Time is a natural concept. Plants, animals, planets sense it, but feel no need to judge the change.
Rigidity. Yes. Rigidity of time. That is a human construct. That is something we decided was true. All of science – all that is, all that was, all that will be – is a theory. There is no proof – there are no absolutes.
You are wrong.
No I’m not.
No absolutes? How about change?
What about it?
Fine. Yes. You managed to make a point. Things change. This is an absolute. You can guarantee that at some point in time, things will change whether you want it to or not.
For the better?
Another human concept. Better or worse. Things change. We know they do, we know they will. Why must we get so caught up in the fact that we must be happy with a change? Over time we come to realize that change is simply that.
Just change with me. Be with me in this. Come with me. I can’t touch you. Not physically. I can’t touch you all, but I can touch your hearts, your minds. You can all come with me. I can hear your trepidation. It wavers in the air, hovers in front of your faces even as you smile, or frown, or laugh outright. I can see your emotions across your faces you’re not alone.
You’re not alone.
You are not alone.
You. Are. Not. Alone.
I could leave now, stop talking, never walk back in again, but you are not alone.
Let us change together.
She makes eye contact with you. The lights in her eyes compliment the lights in yours. The only way you can see the lights is when they bounce off another surface. Light is funny that way. The moon…
She can see the lights of your eyes hitting the light of others. The lights, mirroring each other enhance, enchant her until it’s like she’s looking at the sun. She glances at individual starlights glinting in the room of change, and realize she is one of those stars. Alive and burning.
Alive and burning. Alive with you and -