Miraculous Ventures

"She's stuck." They jested, looking down upon me like I was Alice falling down the rabbit hole-- except I was sitting in a chair and staring off into the abyss.

"She's just...stuck." And yes this was true, I was stuck in place. The girl that couldn't move, neither forward nor backward nor side to side. Simply damned to sit and stare and wear down the patience of even the most stoic consumer of art. 

"But she can move whenever she wants!" Yes, this was true, I was not physically barred from moving, but I could not. I could twist and turn and do cartwheels, but really I simply couldn't, and this was infuriating to most. 

"Just snap out of it." Snap, snap snap, I'd crack my neck and my fingers and those with their own crossed tensed at the sight, but then I would fall back into place and cease to move another muscle.

"She's dumb, elitist, difficult, and radical!" They called, expecting me to move towards their feet in a dance of righteous fury. But I couldn't move. If I could, I'd tell them to add 'disappointing' to the list.

"What is the point? She's wasting away, she's pitiful, she's unbearable, useless, classless, dreamless, unfathomable, demeaning, a traitor, a terror, a tormentor, a quiet insufferable child." But this made no difference to me, the girl who could not, would not, should not move.

'One day,' I thought, gifted with a brain that could move rapidly all day and night and cursed with a body that was stuck every second of every minute, 'One day, I'll move and show them all. One good-old day, I'll un-stick myself, and then they'll see.'

But these were pipe dreams for such a girl stuck in place.