Precious

The crystalline features of the substance dance a golden jig beneath the hot glare of the earth baking sun.

Refractions of light glisten across a sea of beige as might a beacon of salvation to someone haplessly floundering in a torrid ocean of despair.

From across the barren land a bedraggled boy walks wearily toward the point of interest. He scuttles barefoot down a dune into the small valley below then raises his drooped head to survey his surroundings. He comes to a jolting halt and gasps in wonderment when he realises what he has happened upon. Invigorated to an exuberance of action he utters successive yells of joy while haphazardly sprinting then scrambling across the hot sands.

 Such is his excitement that he is no longer concerned that his resources of energy are almost exhausted. He knows that this find is more valuable than anything he could have hoped for and fully understands that its discovery portends greater fortune for his people; perhaps not always, but for the time being, at least.

What’s more; he will be hailed as a hero- the saviour of the village!

A blurred shimmer of his awed expression is reflected to his widened eyes as he crawls forward and places reverent kisses upon the precious surface. He simultaneously laughs and weeps in his relief as he holds it in his trembling, dirt encrusted hands and mutters prayers of adulation to the creator of such divine mercy.

The boy kisses it over and over again before resting blissfully at its side, spent from the effort of the day. He rolls onto his back and smiles at the azure skies until his strength returns then he stands slowly and turns the way back home. Then he will tell his people that they have been delivered from the drought.

………………….

In another lifetime, thousands of miles away in a far more temperate climate, a man sips still water from a plastic bottle while browsing over words written for his study assignment. The essay entitled ‘Life Chances’ is displayed upon the laptop, which sits upon the coffee table within the bedsit the man has lived in for the last year and a half.

In these moments he is considering whether or not the closing lines of the work are of a profound enough nature to aptly conclude the 1,977 that preceded them.

For all his fluency, English is not his first language- nor is England his country. He arrived here as a teenager and although he has familiarised himself well with the language over the four years since arriving, he is doubtful of his ability to articulate thoughts and ideas in foreign script.

If all goes well the Diploma in Social Care will be his first qualification since being granted refugee status in the host country. It will, in fact, be his first qualification of any description; education is not a necessity in the lives of slave children working the diamond mines.

Determined to give it his all he reads the words aloud to better gauge their effectiveness.

‘In times and places of deprivation the value of a thing is defined in relation to need.

 In times and places of prosperity the value of a thing is defined in relation to desire.’

 He smiles in satisfaction at the way the words sounded then takes a drink of water. He swallows then sighs, his eyes closing appreciatively in time, as the trickling liquid soothes his throat.

The man’s reverent expression may belie the resurfacing memories of harder times, but you may guess the truth of a traumatic past were you to see him hold the bottle to eye level and silently mouth his valuation,

‘Precious’

Reviews

[Proletariat Uprising]

It's funny how both parts show how we take things which are so important for granted. Were it not for my education, I would hardly be writing this right now. Were it not for water, I, nor anything living, would be living. Thought-provoking and unique.