Rats and Pumpkins

Dear My Own Personal Cinderella,

I was half-ass cleaning my car a few months ago and I found something that looked like a small pen.  I wasn’t sure what it was at first, but I came to the conclusion that it wasn’t mine after I read the words on it that said:

Prestige Waterproof Automatic Eyeliner/Contour pour les Yeux in BE-01 Black.

And naturally, I’m sitting here wondering who you are. What hands held this and laid precise black strokes upon the eyelids of almond-shaped eyes?  What purse dropped this in between the cushions of my passenger seat?  Was it an accident or a unserendipitously failed plan?

And maybe not so naturally, I’m wondering if you and me could have ever become a we.  After all, I’ve always wanted the adulation of all video gamers, casual and hardcore.  Ok, bad pun. But for reals, it would kinda fun to be a game console… Wiiiii!  But seriously, if I had found this object earlier and returned it to you, would sparks have flown?  Would they have ignited something fulfillingly scary, comfortably exciting?

But that is all for naught.  Instead of living this, I can only imagine.  The images of possibility swirl about my minds eye.  I’m awash in a torrent of need, want, romance, and heartbreak.  The songs I might have sung and the usually bottled-up words I might have spoken swim about in ephemeral images of movies, theatres, restaurants, museums, mountain trails and ivy-covered balconies in faraway places.

They spin about in a vortex centered upon this otherwise insignificant cosmetic accessory, slowly fading and sinking into its real-world matter.  And when the images and sounds disappear, all that is left is this small silver and black object held loosely in my callused hands.

Then, the practical me surfaces and thinks, “Stop bumbling, you idiot.”  I know, I know.  At best, you’ll probably just say, “Oh thanks, I’ve been looking for this.”  No sparks, no ignition, no meaningful songs.

I suppose it’s fun to daydream though.  Some days, I subsist solely on daydreams.

Anyway, if you want your glass slipper back, you know where to find me.

-Pauper Revolting