A Simple Story

A children’s tale, for adults.

Once upon a time, there was a Story.

It was not a great, big story; meaning to say that it was by no means an Epic, but it was not a tiny, silly little bedtime story either.

It was a simple story.

It had a reasonably interesting plot, and a good angle. There was a good guy, and there was a bad guy. There was even a girl. And the ending was rather swell.

It was a good story, and kept to itself. The few people who knew it wore smiles on the insides of their hearts and loved it dearly; some even remembered to tell it to their children before they died, and in turn, the few children who were mesmerized by it and loved it and kept it with them in their memories grew up and told their children, in time, and brought smiles to their hearts.

Many happy years passed.

Then, one day, the story realized that it was not alone. There were other stories. Some were small and childish, and some were Big and Powerful. The Big Stories had exciting plots and very clever endings. They had layers and metaphors and symbols and similes and lots of deep messages. They were better than the simple story. Many people liked them.

The simple story thought to itself, ‘This will not do!
Why should I be content with the Love of so few?
I’m not a bad story! I bet if I grew,
I could be just as big as those Big Stories too!’

And so the story began to spread itself around by word of mouth, faster and faster. It passed itself down through the generations; from Grandfather to Grandson, from Mother to Daughter, from Brothers to Friends and so on. It was shared between Lovers in the dead of night. It was whispered around campfires when the moon was full. It hurried and scurried from mouth to mouth and each time it was told, it grew, just a little. Each time it was told, it changed, just a little. Soon, the story discovered Paper and Ink, and grew to become books. And then it discovered the Radio, and grew to become tapes. It discovered the Theatre, and grew to become great dramas. It discovered Television and grew to become movies and sitcoms and serials and it was only a matter of time before the once-simple story had grown and changed and travelled all across the globe- and still it continued to spread until, one day, there was not a single person in the whole world who did not know the story.

‘There’, it thought, ‘That was easy-peasy!
Now everyone in the whole wide world loves me!’

And it looked upon all the Grandfathers and Grandsons, the Mothers and Daughters, the Brothers and Friends and Lovers and they all looked back and adored it. It was no longer just a simple story. It was a Big, Powerful story that everyone knew, and it put smiles on their faces- for a time.


Then, one by one, they all forgot.

They simply forgot the story. You see, everyone knew it, so it wasn’t really very interesting anymore. And besides, there was no one left to tell it to, so no one really needed to remember it, did they?

Just before it died, the story cried a bit and remembered the few people who had truly loved and cherished it when it had been a young and simple story, putting smiles on the insides of their hearts.

‘If only I had kept their Love,’ it wept,
‘I know now it would have been enough.
It had always, really, been more than enough.’

And with that, it faded away.

So it was; Once upon a time, there was a story. It was not a great, big story, meaning to say it was by no means an epic, but it wasn’t a silly little bed time story either.

It was just a simple story.

The End

flick upon the back of eyeballs
i see a sore
where my heart should be.

For A.