It was one of those summer days when everyone was outside. You could hear sandals slapping the pavement like the sound of applause and parents yelling in an angry caring fashion after their children telling them not to run but at the same time to go play and make friends. Make new friends, but never talk to strangers.
None of the parents minded when their children ran out of sight from time to time or went exploring by themselves, it was the middle of the day, bad things don’t happen in daytime. And as they waited for their children to return they would gather in small groups and discuss how wonderful their husband and wives were, their children and their brand new car.
They would talk of how little Stacey did so wonderfully at her piano recital, the next Mozart, when everyone actually new she had sounded terrible and slow even just trying to play ‘twinkle twinkle little star’. But they all pass around their lies about how great their lives are only to go home and argue and complain about how nothing ever gets done and they’re all failures because they don’t drive a top-of-the-line car or have Einstein for a child.
Their last hope is their little Stacey who they are sure will grow up to be a genius and live happily with a perfect husband in a big house with one of those fancy cars, then maybe their whole life wouldn’t be a waste. But no. Little Stacey will more likely be below average, as you must either be above or below average these days according to everyone, she’ll have a rundown house she can barely afford, sell her body for money when her husband is drafted into the war nobody’s winning and the bruises she has on her arms and the cuts on her legs won’t be because ‘she tripped’.
And the little boys? As soon as they go into the army, voluntary or otherwise their life is over. Mental scarring being the best they can hope for as everyone gets shipped out to kill those indecent folk whose views aren’t the same as ours and therefore must be plotting against us or working for the devil.
But for the moment none of that matters. They shut off their minds from the overwhelming truth and lie to their friends and to themselves while a pedophile sits lazily in a tree looking down everyone’s shirt but no one see’s because bad things like that don’t happen when the suns up.
Then they all go home and gather around their television to watch the big sporting event, and they cheer and thank God every time their team gets a goal because in some third world country a child just lost their only parent to disease and they too will die soon of hunger but none of that matters as long as their team wins. Apparently Gods a lot more likely to help your sporting team then to save a dying child.
