{"id":8853,"date":"2015-03-30T09:00:10","date_gmt":"2015-03-30T13:00:10","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.gadflyonline.com\/home\/?p=8853"},"modified":"2015-04-03T11:04:20","modified_gmt":"2015-04-03T15:04:20","slug":"the-world-is-not-black-and-white","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/the-world-is-not-black-and-white\/","title":{"rendered":"The World Is Not Black and White"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"bw\"<\/a><\/p>\n

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The roads were quiet.\u00a0 Even the cars were afraid to make noise.\u00a0 The windows were tinted.\u00a0 Nobody wanted to know nobody.\u00a0 They just drove on, hoping to get from A to B.\u00a0 Only a few like me refused to disappear and walk these broken streets.<\/p>\n

The billboards were washed white.\u00a0 Strangers walked by in a hurry.\u00a0 Black hoodies covered their faces.\u00a0 Hands shoved into pockets.\u00a0 Warning glances daggered out.\u00a0 Stay Away.\u00a0 Nobody wanted to know nobody, and I avoided eye contact.\u00a0 Unlike them, my face was not covered.<\/p>\n

The movie posters were gone.\u00a0 Sensitivity had screamed.\u00a0 Tear them down, they said.\u00a0 And now vacant lots hung on ugly walls, cold and barren of dreams.\u00a0 The doors were chained except one, and you had to squeeze between metal.\u00a0 I squeezed, and still I bled.\u00a0 Warm droplets kissed skin as I approached another tinted window, knowing that someone was there, but they wanted to remain unseen, unknown.<\/p>\n

\u201cOne, please.\u201d<\/p>\n

An electronic number flashed against the black.\u00a0 A credit card danced across the red scanner.\u00a0 A ticket emerged.\u00a0 Like the billboards, it too was painted white, and my flesh paled against it.\u00a0 My mind flickered, wanting human connection, but there was none.\u00a0 Only cold white breath of impatience kissed the black now, wanting nothing more than for me to be gone.<\/p>\n

No refreshments.\u00a0 Too much fear of germs, disease.\u00a0 The stuff was never good for you anyway, and I\u2019ve learned tricks as to sneaking food in.\u00a0 Today I didn\u2019t.\u00a0 I just approached the angry looking machine with its gaping mouth, hungering for my ticket.\u00a0 Again, no human connection.\u00a0 I should have known better.<\/p>\n

I always had a need for the restroom prior to the movie.\u00a0 After killing a few minutes, I took my seat.\u00a0 I sat up front.\u00a0 I kept telling myself not tolook back, but I did.\u00a0 They were there.\u00a0 A crowd of them gathered in the back.\u00a0 The black hoodies.\u00a0 Their faces masked.\u00a0 Their eyes shimmering.\u00a0 They were not there to watch the movie.\u00a0 They were there to watch me.<\/p>\n

My watch beeped.\u00a0 Movie time.\u00a0 The screen remained white.\u00a0 I could hear the whirring of the machines in the back.\u00a0 No film flapping in the breeze.\u00a0 Sensitivity had screamed.\u00a0 The films were erased.\u00a0 All that was left was white, and as I melted into white, my face appeared before me.\u00a0 I was not afraid to be seen, but they were.\u00a0 Nobody wanted to know nobody including me, but I refused to hide.\u00a0 And they edged closer, my erasure.<\/p>\n

My watch beeped again.\u00a0 Two hours died.\u00a0 Their eyes remained dark, unfulfilled.\u00a0 Faces shadowed.\u00a0 Hands pushed into darkness.\u00a0 They waited for me to move, and I slowly did.\u00a0 Fear kissed my heart, but I would not fade.\u00a0 I walked the aisle like a Dead Man Walking, and What Dreams May Come remained burning inside of me.\u00a0 Here, they could not touch me.\u00a0 Out there they could, and their shadows bit at my heels.\u00a0 I would not run.\u00a0 Let those hounds chase me, and I would meet them face to face.\u00a0 Once seen they would become broken.<\/p>\n

Again, metal bit skin.\u00a0 The streets remained broken.\u00a0 Cars whispered by.\u00a0 Newspapers did their dying dance of screaming headlines.\u00a0 The world faded to black.\u00a0 I remained, a ghost in white.\u00a0 What they failed to realize was that the world is not black and white, but it lived along those lines, captivated by fear and sensitivity.\u00a0 Until that barrier is broken, all that remains are those like me.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

Melissa R. Mendelson is a published author and poet with publications both online and in print. \u00a0She is also a New York State Employee. \u00a0She has three books out on Amazon and Amazon Kindle that range from Supernatural to Horror to Science-Fiction.<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The roads were quiet. Even the cars were afraid to make noise. The windows were tinted. Nobody wanted to know nobody. They just drove on, hoping to get from A to B. Only a few like me refused to disappear and walk these broken streets.<\/p>\n

The billboards were washed white. Strangers walked by in a hurry. Black hoodies covered their faces. Hands shoved into pockets. Warning glances daggered out. Stay Away. Nobody wanted to know nobody, and I avoided eye contact. Unlike them, my face was not covered.<\/p>\n

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