The Ladies of Fate

2 Jul

I’m a person who loves imagery.  My mind is filled with it, every thought I process is via a visual symbol, that’s just the way my mind works.  At the same time, I’ve been blessed with a vivid imagination.

We all have times when things just don’t go quite right.  Maybe they aren’t horribly wrong, but they are filled with small inconveniences and aggravations.  Sometimes we refer to them as the “Speed Bumps of Life.”  At other times, we suddenly and unexpectedly can spiral down into the very depths, into a place so dark and lightless that despair is mild compared to what we feel as we blindly swim our way out.

Often, the source of this is supposed to be Fate.

Now I have a visual image of the Ladies of Fate.  They are kind of like the Red Hat Society on crack, I suppose.  Striped socks, vivid candy-cane like horizontal stripes of red and white.  Big shiny buckles on their patent leather red or purple shoes.  Wildly and shockingly purple and red and white colored dresses with white petticoats peaking out.  Blue hair.  Bright red lipstick and brilliant blue eye shadow that hasn’t been seen in a store since the 70s were over.  False eyelashes that make you wonder if spiders aren’t perched on their eyes.  Big bangles on their wrists, giant dangling golden earrings on their ears.  Flashy rings that would make Liberace drool with envy.

Oh, yeah, baby…they got it going ON!

They are so old, their wrinkles have wrinkles.  So do their sagging knee high socks as they droop around scrawny bird-like elderly legs, stringy with muscle and missing any fat to support the skin, which droops in ways to make a blood hound envious.

But despite their well advanced age, since they are supernatural in nature, they are as spry as Jumping Jack Flash.  They can do moves that a college cheerleader would land in the hospital trying to do.  They can boogie, they can dance, they can sway, and they can sashay too, and sometimes its all at the same time.

They sit in a solid wood jury box, one just like used to be on the old Ironsides television program.  Polished wood, stately and regal, and certainly not prone to childish antics.  The pillar of society…

That’s their thrones.  Those sturdy oak chairs inside of that box.  There are twelve of them too.  Their jury box sort of floats in some nebulous area, like the clouds, looking down upon us.  They found me amusing once, and didn’t bother to forget my name, which means they pay visits way too often.  They are both curious and mischievous, and being liked by them…is a double edged sword.  For as they observe, they occasionally get the giggles, and from their Mary Poppins’ like purses…they will pull out some strange compact little package and throw it at me, cackling with laughter.

“Let’s see what she does NOW!” cackles the pitching Lady of Fate.

Yeah.  Did you see that?  She wants to know what I’m going to do now.  Uh huh.

Who needs friends like this?


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