Marybelle

Marybelle had now run further than her fair feet had ever taken her. The cry of her muscles was deafening, and she was convinced she heard her own two legs screaming in her ears. But there was no stopping, not now, not when she was so close. Marybelle was on the hunt. For just in front of her, by about fifty paces, ran another. A girl of gold. As she gave chase, her long soft hair danced on the wind and each strand blended in the mid-day sun. The dust from the ground was filling the air and her nostrils, keeping the fire of the hunt alive.

For what seemed like days, the gold haired beauty beckoned Marybelle to come. Looking back over her shoulder she cried out to Marybelle to catch her. Don’t let me go, she cried, you’re almost there. But no matter how fast and how far Marybelle ran, she never gained any ground on the glimmering girl of gold.

For years, Marybelle chased the sparkle from her eye and never once captured an inch of territory from the fleeing beauty. Her hair turned grey, her skin faded in the sun, and yet the girl made of gold never aged a day. One day, Marybelle forced herself to stop, and the golden girl moved far into the distance. Marybelle looked at her hands, saw the lines that had been drawn by time. She touched the skin on her face, noticing the way it felt while still and at peace. Marybelle began to get acquainted with the lines which found a new home along her cheeks.

Then, and to her surprise, she noticed she was no longer alone. To her right and left were two beautiful little girls with bright strawberry colored hair. They were barefoot and radiant as the sun over their heads. Each of the young beauties gazed at Marybelle with such love and reverence that Marybelle felt honored by them, yet no words were exchanged.

Quite suddenly, like a flash of lightning, the girl of gold reappeared. But this time she resembled the image of the two little princesses who stood at the feet of Marybelle. She called out to them, come and find me little girls and catch me if you can. Her voice was soft and faded, like the sound of an echo. The gravity of the golden girl began to draw the young-lings when Marybelle, surprising herself, reached out and grabbed the young hands of her adorers.

With her eyes she asked them to stay, to give up the chase, and to plant their toes in the soil of the present. Marybelle glanced again at the one she pursued for so long, and felt one last tug towards the chase, but this time smiled and waved goodbye to the girl of gold. Marybelle dropped to her knees to look her two beauties in the eyes. They looked at her with pure wonder.

Marybelle felt the sun on her face for what seemed like the first time in her life. The two young queens looked in awe at the woman in front of them. Slowly, the lines in Marybelle’s hands and face began to disappear.