Breaking Brodeur
I am at the edge of my world. I teeter on the brink of open space, and I pray to whatever higher powers there may be that a breeze might not pick up. One strong puff and I am done for. I will be left to spiral down into the emptiness with nothing softer than hard mahogany ground to greet me.
It was not always this way. There was a time when I was at the center of my world, surrounded by others who could do no less than to worship me for the God I truly was. I was bigger than all of those other mundane, working trivialities, and I often spent my days surveying my domain, nodding my approval when I was pleased. Those are days I miss. Days when I was gazed upon fondly; when Melanie would pass by and skim her hand over my head; when the children would laugh and fight over who got to play with me more.
Now, as I stand in a perpetual balancing act with half of me stable and the other half on the cusp of plunging, I can only remember the days before the move, before the separation, before the divorce. I am forgotten on a corner, put out of the way by hands that no longer care and set to gather dust for the rest of my days.
Perhaps it is better if I let myself fall rather than let some hurrying person’s reckless elbow end it all for me. At least that way, I shall have a remaining shred of control over my pathetic existence. I can go out with the dignity I’ve always dreamed of.
In the end, it does not matter what I decide. The solid mass beneath me shifts, sharply, just once, and my head tilts…just enough to allow gravity to take its course. Now I am whistling through the air, my head bouncing back and forth uncontrollably, because I know what is about to come and I fear it, I really do-
Right before I hit the ground, I hope that no one will walk on my pieces and cut their feet. It is over in a single shattering of my entire being.