They shake hands, and sign papers as I wait with baited breath. “We would be delighted to have such a promising young man.” My parents place their hands on my shoulder and a smile spreads across my face.
I was king of all jesters, when I took to the stage it was a performance that lingered In your heart. Truly special they called it, a wonder I was. The other students rushed to give their praises, and the teachers shook my hand referring all those seeking to shine my way. The audience always remembered me no matter how small the role I truly embraced what it was exactly meant to be. They stood clapping and raving
“ What a promising young man!” They cheered.
My eyes filled with stars, my skin never glowed so vibrantly, my hands were soft, and smooth to the touch. I kept my appearance in top condition; after all it was part of the job, and part of the dream.
My friends admired how fast I rose, as they all stumbled trying to find the path to their future I blazed forward on the trail I knew was meant for me with absolute. The students and faculty all spoke with that same certainty
“ if anyone can do it, I’m sure he will! There’s nothing that promising young man can’t do.”
They lined us up in gowns and hats, I walked across the stage I had played upon countless times, and snatched my ticket to the future with the confidence of an emperor. As the caps flew in the air everyone smiled getting ready to storm the gates and run to our futures. As we rushed the doors my heart pounded in excitement; I had just begun. Then they flew open and I found myself stopped. The others set forward passing me by, getting ready to make the journey on their paths. I didn’t move. I stood there motionless. I had never realized how small I really was.
“We can’t wait to see what the future has in store for such a promising young man.”
It’s okay I’ll simply find my footing again. I can backtrack and I’m sure the path I was on is still here somewhere. The time I spent frozen only blazed forward without me. My closest friends would tell me of their study’s, their work, their passion projects. I congratulated them with a smile and a laugh as I bit my tongue; hiding the horrid dark coloured envy that painted itself across my heart. It was a joy to see them make such progress, but for every success they came across I would claw down into the dirt striping my flesh from my hands, ripping off my nails. If I dig far enough through the dirt, the thorns, the rock, surely the way forward would come back to me. I was certain they were waiting for me whispering
“Where was that promising young man?”
My eyes were now sunken weighed down by dark circles as crow feet danced along the edges. My complexion was dark and muddy. My hands were rough and calloused, covered in dirt and scars that others found not very flattering.
My parents now believe I should tone my ambitions down to match the slow constant beat of reality. An annoying repetitive beat that never changes, but it’s easy to follow along so I resign myself to following its tune. I turn in my applications, and they all say the same thing.
“We would be delighted to have such a promising young man.”
I laugh to myself.
I sit in my new throne, a shoddy stool with uneven legs, but it’s right by the counter where I can order as much as I want. My friends have all gone off, and seeing them is a rarer sight these days. Off doing important things in a high rise office, a stage blasting music, a booth recording lines, a home with beautiful children running amuck.
A group of teens enter the bar, and show the drink slinger their most definitely fake IDs. If it weren’t for the performance of one among them they would have been tossed out on their asses. I look at the young performer, and I catch a glimpse of the ground below him.
A thought comes to mind, but it would be bad luck to say it.