I keep the scroll around me at all times. A few years ago, I had a mannequin hand, long with slender fingers that I painted bright green and nails painted red. For awhile, it was my talisman. Then I moved and the hand was lost along with some coffee mugs. A friend gifted me the scroll, which dangles halfway down my chest and it became my replacement talisman.
I was supposed to write my hopes and dreams for that year, or some bullshit like that, but now seven years have passed- the scroll remains empty. I never tire from inquirers demanding to know what´s written on it. Sometimes I lie and say something ridiculous like, “Two for the price of one.” Other times, I feign seriousness, pretending the words are a sacred part of me I'm unwilling to share.
So, you're probably wondering what the significance this scroll plays in my life, especially considering I didn´t follow through on the given instructions for it. Let´s just say that sometimes you need a constant in your life and sometimes you aren´t in the position to choose.
I can't depend on my paycheck month to month.
I can't depend on my deadbeat boyfriend.
I can't even depend on my dog to remember all the tricks I've spent months trying to teach him.
But I can depend on people- acquaintances, strangers, family members alike- to question me about my little scroll. This provides me with the closest comfort of the heart I can get. And it's this comfort that I carry with me.
A Winfield-raised Oslopolitan trying to master the art of napkin stories.