Smile at your destiny freewrite

Smile? At a time like this, a laugh, maybe. You know sometimes you just gotta laugh. I mean what else is there to do? Who wants the truth when your destiny is trapped in some molasses bog, and you’re thinking maybe I should’ve taken those swimming lessons after all. Nothing like 20-20 hindsight. I always say there’s room for a little bit of depression a la cart. Will that be all ma’am? says the proverbial waiter. Wait! What do you mean by all? I’m not finished yet, even if destiny is on holiday, sipping maitais and rum coolers with tiny umbrellas, poolside. Smell of burnt sugar wafts through the air. How often do we think of the sugar trade? All of that sparkling white purity coming from such a squalid place and time where the bones of slavery built an empire and this being Martin Luther King’s birthday. To dream and perhaps you shall see. Hey, if you could see my destiny drowning in dark pools, give a shout would you? The bell has rung and it’s out again without a hall pass. Why yes, I would like another cup of tea, thank you very much. Yes, with sugar please, one scant spoonful. Yes. That sugar was for the hummingbirds, she said ,testily. With a Cheshire cat smile she explained how the cat ran up the blinds after the hummingbirds. Maybe if I flutter my wings I can get some sugar for my tea, or will I have to run up the blinds too? If it was destiny, should I smile at my destiny? But destiny is at the dentist's, getting its teeth fixed, thanks to them pearly whites. But the dentist’s bill is too high. Think I’ll pass. Pack up your troubles in an old tin can and smile smile smile. 

1/16/2004 Writers’ Group