The little girl smiled as the she found the final piece of her Cinderella puzzle she received on her sixth birthday. As she had torn the golden, sparkling wrapping paper, for her impatience knew no bounds, her heart lit up with excitement and she couldn't wait for the guests to leave so that her little hands could start placing the missing pieces together.
And when she did, a sense of satisfaction and happiness surged through her body. All the missing pieces suddenly made sense and even though the puzzle had come along with a helping picture to use it as a guide and solve it, the emotion she felt after solving it and bringing it all together- Tiny individual pieces when put together made sense- was a different jet-stream of happiness in it's purest sense.She still loved solving puzzles and this love made her passionate about being a perfectionist, to put everything in order, plan the details of life beforehand, hand in submissions before the deadline. All the small things were fragments of the puzzle of life that she wanted to solve and put together to form a complete picture. She made herself feel complete with her own existence, her own pieces.
And then they came into her life- like a hurricane, disrupting the perfect little pieces she had put together so patiently, some being greedy enough to steal them from her.Despite being robbed off of her delicate pieces she had lovingly crafted, she still loved her little flawed puzzle, for it still reflected the character, the bigger picture without it. One couldn't overlook the beauty of the puzzle just because a few pieces were missing.
Ofcourse there were those who blamed her for losing those pieces. They didn't know they were stolen, they just saw the incompleteness.
And then she found the pieces, that might not fit exactly with her puzzle of life but it did make her feel better about having a piece added.The pieces her added to her life's puzzle weren't the exact hues of blues and purples, a shade lighter or perhaps a shade darker?But one cannot undermine the difference they added. Some might say she gave up her ideals and ideologies of being whole in herself, not needing a man to complete her.
But the ones who say it with the eyes of their heart will realize that he didn't complete her, no. He added something to her life, something that was stolen and something she was okay to live without. The picture was still beautiful to her without the additions, but the additional pieces enhanced it all.
The little girl smiled as she looked forward to discover new pieces with time to someday get the final, complete picture.
~f.k. 14:30
YOU ARE READING
The Fabled Flamingo
Short Story"It's not my words that you should fear, but my silence. My words speak straight to the core but my absence will leave you speechless." ― Nikki Rowe _________________ Sometimes, when it's brittle and cold outside and our insides are craving warmth...
