short story

Peacefully and calmly, the kitten sat at the entrance. Nobody knew how it ended up there, but it seemed to be at ease with its new location. People passed by with morning-scurry in their eyes, no one gave a thought about the tiny visitor. The little thing appeared to be utterly alone, yet in a cheerful mood. Its hair was scruffy and windswept. Red and white, with brown stripes, it clearly derived from an ethnically diverse family, I concluded.

Carefully, I decided to approach the kitty, knowing that I might scare him away. He did not move, in fact he let me take him in my laps as though we had been long-term buddies. I could easily touch him, hold him, play with him. He seemed to trust me from the very first moment I made a step in his direction.

He was so small that I could comfortably have him sit in my two palms. Light as a feather, he looked at me playfully with his freshly-opened eyes. I could feel his soft skin and the warmth of his tiny body.

All of a sudden, a wave of fear crossed my stomach. It hit me as I realized how vulnerable he actually was. Just a bad move, and I can hurt him, crash him, destroy him … within a second. Too easy to harm such a fragile little creature.

But the kitten had no awareness of these thoughts. He continued the game with me, happily and without a care for the world. The notion of fear had not yet made its footprint in his genes, his consciousness was still free from pain and hurt. His instincts had not yet warned him about human cruelty; he had never encountered the experience of being the weakest, being the vulnerable. Just one touch, an unintentional slip of the finger, and he may fall.

A sudden surge of strange sadness started to crawl into my mind. It began to dawn on me how much I have in common with my new friend. Oh so many times, I take part in the beautifully coloured games of my life passionately and playfully, without even considering the possibility of being hurt. I give out all I have, I show myself without hiding…often to an audience that is not worthy of gaining an insight of my innermost world.

I have had my share of disappointment and refusal. I’ve tasted the flavour of deception and fraudulence. I had to learn the art of letting it go. I’d been rejected and denied by people I gifted with my trust and intended to give a lot. All these years have taught me to swallow my rage and taste its wisdom. The things I’ve been through gave me a lesson of putting aside unnecessary pride, but not dignity. My door is open, but I…I know how to protect what I have inside.

The war is over, no need to fight. 



1 hozzászólás Fragile bejegyzéshez

  1. Heeyy !
    You’re great.
    Should write in English

Örülök, hogy beszélsz, kérlek gyűlölködés nélkül tedd, miután figyelmesen elolvastad és megértetted a szöveget.

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