June 3, 2020

Awakening

Upon discovery of the lie, she went about
room to room, appreciating its comforts.
Such a lovely lie, she thought, so breezy.

So free.

It would be easy to stay here, she thought.
I could just crawl into this four-poster bed,
pull the covers over my head and let the
servants tend the garden and cook supper.
No matter that the servants with beating
hearts had been replaced decades ago with
ores mined from Earth's heart, assembled
and delivered using still more ores, and
running, that very moment, on still more.
All the better, she thought. All the ease,
none of the guilt. It would be easy to stay.

But she knew better, now. Now she knew
it was a lie – a lovely, lovely lie – this ease.
She knew there were heaps of guilt, whole
tracts of land bearing the marks of the all-
consuming beast that vomited ores over the
landscape like plague. It was in the marrow
of her bones. Looking up from the bed, she
crossed the room to the window, gazed out
at the plot she had traced just days before
to put in a garden, her first. This could
be more lovely, she thought. More real.

Truly free.