No Strings
By Jeremy Linnell
Behind a screen,
projected in shadow an old hooded man wheels on a cart, overflowing with
objects, old masks, puppets, artifacts and wonders. He starts to erect a stand,
displaying each piece with care and attention. The mask is of an ancient deity,
its expression filled with rage and arrogance. There is a cup, ornate handles
and taller than practicality allows. A
statue of a warrior, a tribute to his conquests. There is history and fable
suggested in each object placed. We want to know about them all. He places one
of the puppets on the floor where it grows in size. As the man speaks the scene
around the puppets will morph to match his words. He is master of reality.
Old Man: A long time ago, in a land much like this one
there lived a man. He was a good man and worked hard and humbly.
The puppet begins to
move, a field springing up around his feet as he kneels to work.
The work was hard and the days were long but he did not
complain. His place was set for him and he took to it graciously. For many
years he woke, worked, ate and slept alone. Then one day something wonderful
happened. He fell in love.
The old man takes a
second puppet from the table and places it upon the floor. It grows in size.
The first puppet notices it and ecstatically embraces its new companion.
From that day forward the man and his companion knew true
happiness. The days were still long and the work was still hard but together
they made them seem bright and joyful.
The puppets work under
the gaze of a bright and cheerful sun.
However one day that would change. Someone much like myself
came to him and offered him a way to work harder, in a shorter time. He could
control the hours of the day and create more of them for himself.
The old man picks up
the mask from the table and offers it to the first puppet. The puppet considers
it for a moment and takes it, placing it upon itself. The terrible visage of
the mask merges with its own.
For a time it worked.
The puppet sinks to the
floor and starts to work, easily double the speed of its companion.
However the man had failed to tell him the mask had a dark
and terrible history. It did not create more hours, it simple allowed its
possessor to take them from later in his life and burn them now. It was only to
be used for special occasions and emergencies. Although some of its owners did
use it for pleasure. And yet…
The masked puppet
continues to work in a frenzy, faster, faster, faster. His companion steps back
in shock, retreating from him.
His behaviour under the masks constant influence grew bigger,
more demanding, more frenzied. His constant companion no longer recognized the
man they had fallen in love with.
The masked puppet is
becoming emaciated. Worried the second puppet steps forward and attempts to
embrace him. They are shaken off and the masked puppet returns to work.
As the days past this took a toll on him. He would sleep for
days. Upon waking he would do a weeks’ worth of work in a few hours only to
fall in to a fitful slumber once more.
The masked puppets
movements become jerky, unnatural and erratic. The other cowers from her
unrecognisable lover.
Unable to bear it any longer his lover asked him to remove
the mask. And he did love them so, and so he tried. But he could not.
The masked puppet
attempts to wrench the mask from his face. It is stuck firm.
So his companion tried to remove it for him, believing that
their love would save him.
The second puppet tries
to pull the mask off. But it will not come.
And in their attempt to save him the beast that was wearing
him did become full of rage. It did not understand. It was helping him! He was
working! It struck out at those he loved so that he would be left alone to
continue his work.
The masked puppet
strikes the second puppet.
And yet she would not leave. So the mask struck again.
The second puppet is
hit again
The man knew what his mask was capable of now. But he would
not give it up. It was part of him and he was part of it. So he too lashed out.
A third strike. The
puppet falls down.
And that strike was the last. Finally free to work as he
wished he did what needed to be done.
The second puppet is
buried
And continued his work in peace. The weeks he slept become
months. The days he worked became hours. And eventually.
The masked puppet
collapses.
He woke no more.
The old man takes the mask off the puppet and puts it back
with his things. The puppets shrink and
they too are returned.
Can I interest you in some of my wares? Everything is for
sale. I think you’ll find me quite
flexible on the price.
END
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