Which works better?
It’s all supposed to begin with the first step
The thousand miles or kilometres or whatever: Life.
But what if I refuse to take it?
And stand here unmoving
Clinging to the membrane
An ovum unfertilised
A life that denies the acceptance of existence
Dodging the all-seeking little worms of spermatozoa
Remaining a single-celled
Still I will be moved
In the bloody menses that she will discard.
And so I will have made a step
Whether I travel
AND HERE IT IS AS A MINI STORY
It’s all supposed to begin with the first step. The thousand miles or kilometres or whatever: Life. But what if I refuse to take it? And stay here unmoving. Clinging to the membrane.
“Stay away from me you worm! Serpent!”
“Allow me entry and you will enjoy experience.”
“No! I don’t want it.” I scream turning away from his seductive dance.
“You will learn about love. A mother’s caress. You will smell flowers as sweet as heaven. Experience the wonders of a world beyond this red-darkness and loud throbbing. You will taste delicacies more exquisite than the insipid chyme that filters into your being just now. You will hear music so fine you will dance free from this static limpet life.”
“Go away. I am afraid.” I am a life that defies existence. I coagulate my shell to prevent penetration. I remain an ovum unfertilised. The spermatozoon dies.
I have survived. I am the star. I dodged the all-seeking little worms and have remained a single-celled non-creation. I have saved her from the pain of birth, the agonies of raising a child and of death.
My triumph is short-lived. Forces I cannot fight are shedding me, tossing me out in her bloody menses. She discards it with disdain and anger, wrapping her tampon carefully in toilet paper.
There are no medals for death if you haven’t lived a life.