Sarah the Mime had been silent for over a decade. Her abstention from communication could have been perceived as a vow of silence, people were not perceptive and she knew the sounds and smells of several institutional environments. Inside her mind was a maelstrom of emotions, every wave of feeling swelling and washing down over her body, in waves. Sarah would stare at the raindrops dripping on the windowpanes, feeling melancholy and needing to cry, she would paint a tear on her face. She refused to tell anyone of her private thoughts, she declared her personal space to the doctors and nurses with her mute existence. Sarah did not want to live her life among her religious relatives and she did not care for the endless acquisition of property. When she was released from the psychiatric ward, she was finally free from everyone she knew. She shook her hands as if she was breaking loose of chains and she leapt towards the door. As the elevator descended, she felt her stomach clench in panic, as if the organ anticipated a sudden of plan. Welling curiosity overcame resignation with confinement, when she signed for her belongings and received her allowance money. The momentary pause before the automatic exit door swooshed open was a moment to remember. She ran across the parking lot and her face was a mask of mirth, soundless laughter shaking her feminine body. She found her way to the bus station and she rode the mechanical monster to the downtown of the city. She portrayed characters from books, on street-corners for tips, to earn a meager amount of money, to afford a hotel room and wine and bread. When she had saved enough, she traveled the famous cities of Dixie, amazing the tourists with apt and appropriate acts, she was the silent film star of her own movie, showing the masses the delicate art of conveying meaning without vocal communication. Road weary and tired of motel room cockroaches for pets, she was ready for a long term mobile home. When she spied the carnival lights in a truck-stop parking lot and she read the advertisements for clowns, she made rudimentary sign language with the carnies, inquiring as to the location of the owner of the fleeting festival. She was directed to the restaurant, where she found Gypsy Joe eating greasy food. "I always wanted to have French stuff in the show," Gypsy Joe grumbled, "You got a boyfriend?" Sarah held up two fingers and she rotated the digits, in a circular motion. "Oh well, okay then. I got a vacant trailer for you. Welcome to clown town." Gypsy Joe laughed and he returned to his cheap cuisine, devouring the country fried slop with gusto. Sarah had finally felt a feeling of belonging to something other than a doctor and nurse in a hospital, or a relative with a warped sense of familial bond in a church. Sarah smiled and she fanned her face with her hand.
Posted on: Sat, 10 Aug 2013 23:16:47 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015