Community

I aimagine a community. Small and disparate like the corners of the world, bundled together into a knotted seam. They played out like colors on a television sitcom, representations of the archetypes of jung all bundled up into a location. The thief, the sage, the girl, the boy, I was the boy, the girl was small, slender, parted bangs that split off to the left side of her cheek. I was in love with her.

We played archetypes and beehives, laughed at the stereotypical nature of our existence and then lost ourselves in living, laughing, and figuring out the basics of who we were, how we were constructed and how our arms came apart at the wrists, unspooling into gigantic reams of paper.

I loved her and then she left, floating off into the winds blowing away with the capricious spirit of my imagination leaving me only with the various scraps of paper that scattered around me like the autumn leaves. I missed her. and the sage, and the trickster and the archetypes that'd laughed and poked ironically at their stereotypicalness, then disappeared into the wind.

I miss her, the Girl.