For some magical mystical reason, she never died.
As she grew older and older, she traveled far and wide. She witnessed deeds marvelous and mad, saintly and sad. She never revealed what she saw, heard, and learned.
Until a curious journalist discovered her and begged her to reveal the wisdom she had accrued through her long long life. After a long struggle and many conditions, the journalist gained her consent.
The wisest people on the planet gathered together to meet the old woman. People around the globe, connected through the modern wonder of technology, hovered with bated breath by their video screens.
The old woman shuffled to her high seat on a dais and eased her weary bones into the soft cushions.With gnarled hands, she sipped at the honeyed mead made from her own ancient recipe. The old woman sighed, closed her eyes, and leaned back.
The world gasped, fearing she had died before she could speak the wisdom of the ages.
The old woman’s mouth twisted and she made a rude, mocking noise. “I told Henry VIII that his second wife was no better than she should be. But did he listen? Of course not. The poor thing…
“If only I’d know about Botox when I was 1500. And fake nails, and tooth veneers…
“I taught Shakespeare how to read and write. But did I get any credit?
“And the Gray woman who wrote that Shades book should have spoken to me first. You learn things after 3,000 years… ”
On and on and on she gossiped, back and forth through history. The disillusioned sages melted away. The grouchy muttering world disconnected.
Only one young woman remained to hear the final tale.
How would you finish this story? Is there a lesson to be learned?
© Joan Leacott 2013 sketch © multirealism via 123RF Stock Photo