So Tell, Inform, Enlighten me
Of Slumber and Witches
Some are born beautiful. Others have it given to them, like a
bequeathal.
Song of Solomon (Remix)
Sleeping Beauty seems to have a fountain of Beauty trapped within her, like a vast, hidden oil well, repressing every scar every pimple every Signature of Time. She has something we would call ‘Grace’, for lack of any better term. She redefines Beauty. We used to know that Beauty lay in the eyes of the Beholder. Now Sleeping Beauty convinces us that it lies in the eyes of the Beholden. She is Slipping Beauty, evolving perpetually.
Cinderella has only vague memories of the plain, bland housekeeper she once was, who swept around the house trapped in freckles and a windy gown, since it was such a long time ago, yet sometimes she cannot help but feel less than beautiful whenever she compares herself with Sleeping Beauty.
*
The State vs. Sleeping Beauty, thunders the court clerk.
Sleeping Beauty mounts the Witness Box. She swears to the oath, and you rise, as the Attorney, to begin your Questioning.
“What is the How of Love?” You ask, picking your words daintily and choking them full with Emphasis.
“You’ve got to Fall Asleep”, answers Sleeping Beauty (without a moment of hesitation), shutting the vaults of her eyes for a second. For that second you miss those Precious Metals you have taken for granted. She lets go of her neck, allowing it to droop and stain the air with – that word again – ‘Grace’. “You’ve got to Fall Asleep for a long long time. Find the Witch within you. Stir her Anger. Cup her Curse within your palms, and nurse them gently like a fragile flame. Stay awake to welcome Slumber, when he comes and knocks silently. You can only Know the knock if you stay awake.”
*
It is Cinderella’s turn to mount the Witness Box.
“I know nothing of Slumber or Witches,” she says, in a near-whisper. “The only witches I ever knew were Human, two sisters called Stonerella and Blackerella. And they had no powers to Curse you with Slumber. Their powers ended at keeping you wide awake, lost in The Forest of A Thousand Tasks. You didn’t need to stir their Vexation; it was always present, a raw wound renewing itself with the Arrival of Time…I think you’ve got to Stay Awake. Yes, Stay Awake. You can’t afford to Fall Asleep. How’ll you recognize
Midnight when He comes? …And you’ve got to Stay Unique, so that your Slipper will fit only you. You can’t afford to share a Shoe-size with half the Village…”
And with a chuckle, she adds: “And be kind to Mice, even when no one’s looking.”
*
You cast a glance at the Jury, and for once you are Thankful that you are not one of them. You wonder: who is Speaking the Truth, the Whole Truth, and Nothing but the Truth? Surely, someone has got to be right, and someone wrong, y’know? The Sentenced-and- the-Acquitted-Stuff, or the-Guiltyand-the-Innocent: they couldn’t both be right, could they?
You feel like raising your hand. ‘Objection, My Lord!’ you want to scream. You want to ask for a Cross Examination. But something tells you not to bother. This isn’t your specialty. Love ain’t actually Law School Curriculum. (Only Broken Love is!).
You have done your best. It’s up to the Jury to sift through the Exhibits – Slipper, Chariot, Christening Invitation, Needle, Hundred-year-old Dust, etc) and the Evidence, and come to their own verdict.
It’s their business, not yours!
bequeathal.
Song of Solomon (Remix)
Sleeping Beauty seems to have a fountain of Beauty trapped within her, like a vast, hidden oil well, repressing every scar every pimple every Signature of Time. She has something we would call ‘Grace’, for lack of any better term. She redefines Beauty. We used to know that Beauty lay in the eyes of the Beholder. Now Sleeping Beauty convinces us that it lies in the eyes of the Beholden. She is Slipping Beauty, evolving perpetually.
Cinderella has only vague memories of the plain, bland housekeeper she once was, who swept around the house trapped in freckles and a windy gown, since it was such a long time ago, yet sometimes she cannot help but feel less than beautiful whenever she compares herself with Sleeping Beauty.
*
The State vs. Sleeping Beauty, thunders the court clerk.
Sleeping Beauty mounts the Witness Box. She swears to the oath, and you rise, as the Attorney, to begin your Questioning.
“What is the How of Love?” You ask, picking your words daintily and choking them full with Emphasis.
“You’ve got to Fall Asleep”, answers Sleeping Beauty (without a moment of hesitation), shutting the vaults of her eyes for a second. For that second you miss those Precious Metals you have taken for granted. She lets go of her neck, allowing it to droop and stain the air with – that word again – ‘Grace’. “You’ve got to Fall Asleep for a long long time. Find the Witch within you. Stir her Anger. Cup her Curse within your palms, and nurse them gently like a fragile flame. Stay awake to welcome Slumber, when he comes and knocks silently. You can only Know the knock if you stay awake.”
*
It is Cinderella’s turn to mount the Witness Box.
“I know nothing of Slumber or Witches,” she says, in a near-whisper. “The only witches I ever knew were Human, two sisters called Stonerella and Blackerella. And they had no powers to Curse you with Slumber. Their powers ended at keeping you wide awake, lost in The Forest of A Thousand Tasks. You didn’t need to stir their Vexation; it was always present, a raw wound renewing itself with the Arrival of Time…I think you’ve got to Stay Awake. Yes, Stay Awake. You can’t afford to Fall Asleep. How’ll you recognize
Midnight when He comes? …And you’ve got to Stay Unique, so that your Slipper will fit only you. You can’t afford to share a Shoe-size with half the Village…”
And with a chuckle, she adds: “And be kind to Mice, even when no one’s looking.”
*
You cast a glance at the Jury, and for once you are Thankful that you are not one of them. You wonder: who is Speaking the Truth, the Whole Truth, and Nothing but the Truth? Surely, someone has got to be right, and someone wrong, y’know? The Sentenced-and- the-Acquitted-Stuff, or the-Guiltyand-the-Innocent: they couldn’t both be right, could they?
You feel like raising your hand. ‘Objection, My Lord!’ you want to scream. You want to ask for a Cross Examination. But something tells you not to bother. This isn’t your specialty. Love ain’t actually Law School Curriculum. (Only Broken Love is!).
You have done your best. It’s up to the Jury to sift through the Exhibits – Slipper, Chariot, Christening Invitation, Needle, Hundred-year-old Dust, etc) and the Evidence, and come to their own verdict.
It’s their business, not yours!
Page(s) 26-27
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