Every town has the potential for extreme evil regardless of how peaceful and God-fearing it may seem to be when you’re driving through on a Sunday afternoon. The problem is that just passing through you’re not seeing what’s going on under the surface.

You’re not able to see behind locked doors to know whether or not the Joneses are really happy with their huge home and spiffy yacht. Are you sure they’re not up to their figurative wazoos in debt and that they haven’t signed away the firstborn of their firstborn to pay for the super shiny and surely super-expensive new sports car parked in front of their ever-so-perfect home?

Without literally being a fly on the wall you’re not going to be sure that Mr. Jones isn’t hitting the bottle a little too much just to turn around and hit Mrs. Jones even more while little Jane Jones watches from underneath the table, terrified and hoping maybe just maybe he won’t turn on me tonight too. It isn’t until the next day when you check out the news that you find out that Mr. Jones had sold his soul to the devil to make everyone think he was happy then cracked under the pressure when the devil decided it was time to collect, beating his family to death then taking care of himself. By the time you make it to work there are already a million stories of “what really happened” flying through town with only a few stopping to wonder more about the why behind the how than about the how itself.

The fact is that things are rarely as they appear. With a movie you know it all in less than two hours and, with the magic of television, murders can be solved in 30 minutes or an hour and the rules can almost always be broken without consequences. Such isn’t life. A lot of times nothing fits into the little cookie cutter shapes we’d like them too, and far too often the hows and whys go unanswered.

Humans can’t escape their humanity and because of it will undoubtedly always be unhappy with the here and now, always striving for that greener grass on the other side of the fence. It doesn’t matter that grass is grass no matter what lawn it’s springing up in because people, as a general rule, tend to want what they’re unable to obtain. A few break away and do find true happiness but heaven help those around the person who has reached that state of bliss only to have his or her citizenship revoked. Nothing can ever compare to the euphoric wonders of the sense of having everything and it’s through the loss of life’s beauty that the ever-present darkness pounces and takes a hold.

They say that hell hath no fury like a woman scorned but really there is no fury equal to that of hell, and the inhabitants are often eager to let that be known.

  1. It sounds like you are exploring the inner turmoil of ones personal spirit. Very good writing!

  2. Wow, that is powerful writing Miranda! I want an autographed novel! I love the way your mind works.