Bill

I've lived most of my life in the dark.

I'm not trying to be metaphysical, or whatever. I just want you to understand where I'm coming from. Most of who I am was developed sitting patiently locked away in a dark prison cell, awaiting the few days I would live in the outside world.

I remember one such day. The door I sat behind for three years finally opened. At first the light was so intense I thought I would burn up, but I quickly adjusted. It was Christmas time, that much I recall. There were red and green streamers everywhere and the guards wore little pins on their shirts with a holly leaf and three berries. They loaded me into a truck with a bunch more just like me. I wouldn't say they threw us around, but they weren't very gentle either.

When we arrived at our destination, they packed us into another container, but I knew it wouldn't be long before they let us out this time. I was right. About two hours later I was leaving with a long-legged blonde. She wasn't my girlfriend, and she certainly wasn't my mother. To be honest, she didn't mean anything to me at all. Heck, I guess I was hardly worth anything to her anyway. When we got back to her house, all I wanted to do was sit on a window sill and bask in the sun, but she had other plans for me.

For the next three months I stayed in her room. I didn't leave once. It was just another cell to me.

I didn't know what her plan was, but when she pulled her car around that day I was compelled to go with her. Turned out she was taking me back. The guards didn't seem to even care that I was back. Just another inmate. One more piece of paper to push around, one more number to keep track of. What's one lousy dollar bill to a bank full of money?

That did not turn out at all like I wanted. I am pretty disappointed, but it's 11:51 pm. In case you didn't get it, I was not writing about a person, but about a dollar bill. It sucked, but if I don't practice I don't grow.