A Course In Positive Thinking
by Jane Flett
You are a flower. The world is an infinitely forgiving place. Mistakes are forgotten when the votes are counted. Everyone is a winner. It wasn't even a competition. There will be a pageant parade. Today the Post Office sent seven million packages with multicoloured sashes proclaiming Congratulations!
Beneath the sackcloth is a tiny garden of moss pressed in a small shoebox. Caterpillars live forever, nothing ever flees, the bugs look upon you as their benevolent and beloved deity.
The moon is on your side. It will never turn away. You'll always be able to ask its face whether the decisions you made were the right ones. They were.
Your favourite animal will never face extinction.
You are not destined for cancer.
In the end, it turns out alcohol was good for your liver. We made a mistake. Don't hold this against us. We'll tell you and we'll all chuckle and talk over each other, hold hands, convulse with giggles as the tears bead: I knew it, I just couldn't believe it wasn't like this, of course!
The debits and credits of life have been recalculated. You are not due tax; you are owed a trapeze. It transpires you have a natural gift for hanging upside down, knees to the clouds.
From now on, Monday will be fireworks day. The local authorities will fill the skies with technicolour. Hot roast chestnuts will be distributed to the melancholic.
Your town has received a shipment of peacocks; the streets are full of their strut. People laugh and point at the bottom of their gardens, strike up conversations with strangers about the wiggle of their tails.
Rejection was just a test. You passed! In fact, everything bad was just a test. We're sorry it had to be that way, but you did so well. And you're stronger now, aren't you?
Yes, even his tumour. It won't happen again.
You can't be hurt any more by speeding vehicles or judgemental horoscopes or cakes that sink in the oven. We have made your skin thicker. It won't bleed, even if the razor blade slips.
Everything is rosy. We have banished clouds from the sky. This is the new world; you are happy now.
Welcome to it. Enjoy.
Beneath the sackcloth is a tiny garden of moss pressed in a small shoebox. Caterpillars live forever, nothing ever flees, the bugs look upon you as their benevolent and beloved deity.
The moon is on your side. It will never turn away. You'll always be able to ask its face whether the decisions you made were the right ones. They were.
Your favourite animal will never face extinction.
You are not destined for cancer.
In the end, it turns out alcohol was good for your liver. We made a mistake. Don't hold this against us. We'll tell you and we'll all chuckle and talk over each other, hold hands, convulse with giggles as the tears bead: I knew it, I just couldn't believe it wasn't like this, of course!
The debits and credits of life have been recalculated. You are not due tax; you are owed a trapeze. It transpires you have a natural gift for hanging upside down, knees to the clouds.
From now on, Monday will be fireworks day. The local authorities will fill the skies with technicolour. Hot roast chestnuts will be distributed to the melancholic.
Your town has received a shipment of peacocks; the streets are full of their strut. People laugh and point at the bottom of their gardens, strike up conversations with strangers about the wiggle of their tails.
Rejection was just a test. You passed! In fact, everything bad was just a test. We're sorry it had to be that way, but you did so well. And you're stronger now, aren't you?
Yes, even his tumour. It won't happen again.
You can't be hurt any more by speeding vehicles or judgemental horoscopes or cakes that sink in the oven. We have made your skin thicker. It won't bleed, even if the razor blade slips.
Everything is rosy. We have banished clouds from the sky. This is the new world; you are happy now.
Welcome to it. Enjoy.
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Author's Note
Published in the glorious wigleaf, Jan 2012.
Other stories by Jane Flett
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How come after reading this I'm depressed? Fave.
This makes me giddy. I'd like off that trapeze, if you please.
Every paragraph delivers another slap disguised as a kiss. Positive fav.
Thank you both! It's a joyful, beautiful new world, that's for sure...
x
The voice and structure of this are amazing. It turns me every which way! *
If only... *
This is delightful, start to finish. "Your town has received a shipment of peacocks;..." Love it!
Wonderful, especially about the alcohol. *
Wow, thank you all! xx
greatness.
I really enjoyed the ride, this piece just nver stops giving. *
The moon is on your side....
Your favourite animal will never face extinction....
You are not destined for cancer....
From now on, Monday will be fireworks day....
You can't be hurt any more...
Really good, Jane.
*
I'd missed this, and that was my loss. Good piece. Moves well.
"...the streets are full of their strut," is a killer phrase.
Appreciate all your nice words, they make me want to go write more things instead of looking around the internet. Thanks.
You are owed a trapeze. This right here is the kind of writing that makes me think I should put down the pen and join the circus. So happy and miserable to discover you here. Massive fucking talent.
Love your work. It sings to me. Beautifully done. Brave stuff.
Really beautiful.
"Rejection was just a test. You passed! In fact, everything bad was just a test. We're sorry it had to be that way, but you did so well. And you're stronger now, aren't you?"
And funny.
Thanks.
High ironic tautness. *
love this piece..must read more of you now. Very cool. *
'...the streets are full of their strut'.
Jane, I've only just "discovered" you. This is great stuff. Trapezes and peacocks indeed. *
Poetic and strong of voice, this. Fine fine fine.
Jane this is awesome. I like to read stuff out loud and this just went right to the top. Fave.
Although a devout Negativist, I confess this tale did leave me with a thin slime coating of hope. And thus I favorite same. Thanks kindly for posting!