At the edge of the earth, at the corner of chaos and complacency, smugly seated with eyes concealed, before me are Patience, Death, and Time.
“You may step forward.”
I step forward. Gaze averted, head bowed. Solemn.
“And what have you brought for us today?”
“Today, Your Honors, I have prepared for you a deconstructed justice, seasoned with doubts and fears, lightly sauced in an apathetic vinaigrette, tenderly toasted so as to offer the appearance, the idea of caring but not the care itself, sprinkled with premature and thoughtless forgiveness and a dash of naivety as a garnish.”
In my hands, atop a rusted platter, trembles my apprehensive yet optimistic heart.
I slice it into three portions. It is rare, and the blood is thick.
Death, licks his lips and orders another.
Time, cuts a section and raises it to her mouth, but it rots on the way there, shrivels and grays on her fork before she ever takes a bite.
And Patience? Patience smiles with savor, hungrily, but says, “Not yet. Though I know it will be delicious.”
Song Credit: "One Day We'll Have to Face Ourselves" by Harris Cole