fear of being unrecognisable

my fear of being unrecognisable

is my worst fear of all.

i wake in cold sweats, for fear that one day i should find myself so completely different that i am not recognised as me.

It started with a joke. a joke told at a party, by a short man, his hair grey as silver tinsel, his legs as spindley as bare branches and his voice as intimate as distant traffic.

He slept curled up like a child, and when he laughed his smile filled them room with beams of light. He dressed only in the finest of colours, but still – still dispite all this – he lived unnotices.

He would jump up and down from tables to chairs and scream or stamp his feet, but still any noise he made simply melted into the background of even the most silent rooms, and his silvery tears ran down his pallid, longing cheeks most hours in the day, until he almost withered.

In time, he stopped wearing the smart colours and wore only black or dirty grey. He let his silvery hair grow long and matted, so as not to shine, and his spindley legs grew so weak they could no longer hold him upright. He could no longer even cry, just watch, slumped in a corner of the room, from where he could make no noise, nor from which he could even spare the effort to move.

And there he stayed for a great many years until one day a huge dog enetered the room looking for fallen scraps ffrom the other guests. They were so busy in their conversatiom, lifting thier skirts, dropping thier trousers, and stamping with laughter carelessly that the dog – the poor dog – could only find one scrap to fill his hunger.

So he dragged the small morsel into a dusty corner where it could not be taken from him, and so that he could eat in peace.

Only instead of an empty, dusty corner he found our old man, unnoticed still, and weaker then ever. Now, although the dog was famished he felt compassion for this forgotton man, whom the other guests had treated so coldly.

The old man had barely seen the dog enter his corner, had it not been for his huge bright eyes which could cut through any darkness, The dog couls not blink, only send out amazing beams of fearlessly bright light. And the light startled the old man and blinded him.

But regardles the dog came back to feed the old man with the crumbs he found, everyday until, bit by bit, the old man eventually could move his spindley legs again, and began to reuse his beautiful voice.

He told the dog all about how he ended up in the dusty, horrible corner although – obviously – the dog did not understand a word the old man was saying. But all the while, talking and eating, the man gained strength and confidence to go out again, in fact he had grown quite round, and jolly looking which suited his silvery hair, he was ready to crawl out of his little corner again and try to rejoin the party.

The hour came and the dog helped the old man to get up. Step by step as he walked back into the room he leant upon the dog, and the dog loyally nudged through the crowd to help the man on his way to the centre of the room, where he said, aloud,

‘this dog helped me’.

But no one could hear, he screamed it again and again, but still no one turned around to listen, or to ask for an explanation of the old mans tale. So he shouted with anger and stamped his foot, but accidentally stamped down very hard upon the huge dogs tail.

The great dog yelped and snapped up the old man, swalloing him with one huge gulp, and the man was gone.

At which a lady turned around and said, ‘oh what a silly man for thinking this dog would help him, There isnt a dog atall, this is my pet crocodile.’

And the crocodile smiled a crocodile smile and went wandering again, his huge beaming eyes on search for another unnoticable little man.