Disobedience
How we get to where we are
Hey! Do you always do as you are told?
Rhetoric is often tossed around when it comes to chasing dreams and making the most of this mortal coil, but most of it is contradictory at best — hypocritical at worst.
The misguided desire for something more. The status quo is ever at odds with anything different.
There is a push and a pull to embrace the unknown while somehow maintaining stable footing.
Safety measures and moderation sound like good excuses, but they only graze the heart of the issue.
What is really being said without it being said, is an invitation to disobey.
All with plausible deniability to avoid any vested interest in the likely chance that a misstep leads to a long fall toward failure.
Shorter Stories
Continuing this trend I’m on of writing little scenes for the weekly newsletter, I was inspired this time by an artist I follow on TikTok:
I always enjoy coming across one of her new works as I infinitely scroll on the app. She shares a certain appreciation for expression that is hard to describe but easy to feel.
Embracing rather than rejecting melancholy and troubling thoughts, allowing space for those darker emotions to flower into beautiful colors and incredible stories.
And there’s one in particular that recently caught my eye.
The very same one that sparked today’s newsletter.
Little Red Rain Coat
Skofi was a curious girl. She found adventure under every rock and each patch of dirt. She made a habit of coming home with grass stains and mud all over her little red rain coat.
“Mommy! Mommy!” She would exclaim after another outing in the lost fields of her family’s backyard. “You’ll never guess who I met today! Bigger than the biggest fish Daddy’s ever caught!”
“Oh?” Her mother answered in tired tones as dinner cooked itself on the open oven. “Did you make a new friend today?” She played along with Skofi’s games — a way to measure her daughter’s day and level the understanding of her love.
“Don’t be silly, Mommy!” Skofi would respond with incredulous intonations. Her world was her own and she didn’t pay any mind to the non-believing adults in her life. “There is no one in the offing, but there are plenty of fish in the sea!”
“Is dinner ready, Cocinos?” Skofi’s father sliced through the air with a more practical question for the hour at hand.
“We’ll be sitting down to eat soon, Erutho. Skofi was just about to set the table.” Skofi’s mother grinned at the absurdity of her daughter’s tale. Both she and Erutho were proud of her overactive imagination.
“I’m putting down the tablecloths now, Daddy!” Skofi quickly shifted her weight to rush toward the cabinets. She wasn’t thinking about dinner or the formalities of the family at all before Erutho asked, but she was willing to put in the effort to make it seem important.
“That you are, Skofi. That you are.” Erutho tried to smile, but his eyes were tired. He was worn from his own work and brought his disappointment home with him.
“Did they…” Cocinos began to ask, but two words were enough to tell her the answer. Her husband was overlooked for some political reason or another. She shook her head in scorn as she realized who she had married. A man with principles who lacked the skills to worship those who were not worthy.
“The winds have been difficult to work with.” Erutho grinned a gleeless grin as he watched Skofi scurry from the cabinets to the dining room table. “They tell me this season may lack more profits than they originally planned.”
“Oh?” Cocinos moved to help her daughter as the worrisome thoughts of their limited budget tightened. “What does that mean for us?”
“We’ll be fine, I promise.” Erutho lied, but he meant every word. He would gladly give his life if it meant providing for his family, but the pragmatics of trade never cared for contracts written in emotions.
“If you say so…” Cocinos was accustomed to those lies. She would support Erutho through thick and thin, just as he would her. Their love was boundless and concentrated on their child. Little Skofi and her wild dreams of stories far and wide.
So, when they settled around the table with plates aplenty and mead on the mend, Cocinos asked her daughter more about her latest adventures.
“You met a sea creature out past the cliffs?”
“Yes…” Skofi answered sheepishly.
“Skofi! It’s dangerous to go out there alone!” Erutho gave his daughter a stern look. He relaxed, though, when he saw the scowl on his wife’s face
“I’m sorry, Daddy….” Skofi played with the peas on her plate as she contemplated saying more. Even a simple lesson has infinite powers to silence a child after a transgression.
“Daddy is just being silly.” Cocinos shook her head and rubbed Skofi’s back as she encouraged her to keep talking. “Tell us everything. I know Daddy wants to hear the whole story as well!”
“Yes…” Erutho struggled to raise his head as he felt the shame weigh his raccoon eyes even lower. “I just had a bad day, Skofi. I’m sorry for yelling at you.”
“I know you were being silly, Daddy.” Skofi answered with a smile as she regained her confidence. “So, you want to know about Jonas?”
“Jonas?” Erutho and Cocinos answered in unison at the sound of their daughter saying an unfamiliar name.
“Yes! His name is Jonas and he showed me more than just the shores!” Skofi was so excited she dropped her fork and knife onto the floor. With a clack and a smack, she used the sound to add to the drama of her story. “He let me ride his back across the waves and showed me the home of so many of his friends!”
Both Cocinos and Erutho were silenced by the revelation. Their daughter was brought somewhere strange by this foreigner with an uncommon name.
“How did you meet Jonas?” Erutho asked his daughter as Cocnios got up to help clean up the unwashed cutlery.
“Isn’t it obvious, Daddy?” Skofi let out a laugh as she continued her tale. “He swam up to the shore and I climbed down the cliff to meet him. He’s been worried about the sea as well, and said the changes have made it hard for all the fish for over three days!”
“Three days?” Erutho exchanged glances with his wife as he processed all the information. “Fish in the sea?”
“Skofi, darling.” Cocinos asked the question on both her and her husband’s mind as she washed up the spilled fork and knife. “Who exactly is Jonas?”
“He’s a whale!” Skofi rolled her eyes at the ridiculous question before getting up to find her matching red umbrella. “He said he saw me on the shore and wanted to share his own story. You wouldn’t believe how many sea creatures love to hear about our lives!”
And that was the moment when they could no longer listen. Erutho closed his eyes and understood his daughter was simply running away with her imagination. He was grateful there was no nefarious actor, but tired from worrying about how his family could survive.
“Coci, I think it’s time for bed.” He spoke without even opening his eyes and Cocinos answered with nothing but the sound of her arms working hard to scrub the remaining dishes.
“Alright, but you need to put her to bed.” Cocinos stated the plan plainly as she continued to work on the dirty dishes.
“I’ll tell her the old bedtime story.”
“She needs to hear it tonight.”
“I know.”
Erutho then brought Skofi to bed and tucked her in tight. He recited the old tale of a whale who came to their shores. His name was never known, but he spent three days and three nights with a human who then learned to find peace in their world.
“See! I knew you knew Jonas!” Skofi smiled as she drifted off to sleep in her little red bed, waiting for a more pleasant tomorrow where her family wasn’t worrying about how they could provide a future that never was.
Days in the Depths
If it was unclear, one of my goals with these little excerpts of scenes is to highlight my ability to adapt and advance in multiple styles.
I’ve been a mercenary who wields a pen for the entirety of my professional life. While my individual style may veer toward the strange, I have no issue writing within the confines of a predetermined spec and goal.
In a redundant reiteration, here’s a link to my LinkedIn and my ongoing desire for stable employment.
Now, I don’t expect a flood of offers, but I would hope anyone who could use my hand doesn’t hesitate to offer their own.
I’ll leave it at that and until next time.
Cheers,
JMB