Aren’t we all just actors in another person’s life story?

Villians

Comic relief pratfalls

Salacious scenes

Bit part players

Plot devices

Enduring themes

All of us

All of you

All of me

So the hero sat there by herself.

Not much of an Easter?

House was decorated. Baskets were ready. Eggs were hidden. She would soon be with the favored parts of her family for dinner.

But the hero had dug herself into hole.

Words were said, and just as importantly, words were left unsaid.

It was a slight impression on the earth. But our hero dug deeper and deeper.

E+R=O

A relatively small event
An outsized reaction
A truly dire outcome

Heros are “Heros” because they just don’t stop.

So she pushed the poet aside as hard as she could and just kept on digging.

He was lingering around the rim of Hero Canyon.

Doing something but not really anything listening to our Hero panting and cursing at the bottom of her pit.

He had a rope.
He had multiple ladders.

E+R=O

In a dark ass hole covered with dirt, sweat and tears.

“You want me to toss you a rope?”

“No!!! This is just fine.”

“I’m just hanging out waiting for you to let you back up into the light…”

“You be you.”

“You’ve done this before. The back yard looks like the surface of the moon…”

This is all true.

Our hero was always found of two things…

Being an office girl
Playing runaway girl

The poet used to yell and scream when the hero started digging.

A few times he picked up an even better shovel and taught her how to REALLY dig a hole.

He thew away the shovels. She went and bought more

Now he just sits and waits for the hero to finish digging her hole.

What else can he do?

He sits
He waits
He wishes she would stop digging her hole

And, yes, the poet hopes that this will be the last time the hero picks up a shovel.