puppet normal

Years and years ago, I saw a show with foul-mouthed puppets, improvising their way through comedy skits and adventures.

I was charmed.
Completely, utterly charmed.

I promised myself I would go again, but then life happened, and kept happening.

The show came to my area again and I told myself I would go again, as soon as things were back to normal. As soon as I wasn’t fighting a criminal case.

The show came to my area again, and I heard about it while I was in prison. I told myself I could go again and soon as things were back to normal. As soon as I was home.

The show came to my area again, and I told myself I could go again when things were back to normal. When I had come to grips with the idea that half of the group I went with last time had died since then. When it was an easy financial decision. When I had someone to take with me.

The show is back for a few days this month, and I thought about going, but realized I am not there yet. Even though some days I feel really close to it, everything still isn’t back to normal.

Things might never be puppet-normal again.

Things
might
never
be
puppet-normal
again.

It’s just a silly show.
I know.

And even if I went, I would not be the same woman who went so many years ago… and maybe that’s the saddest part of it all.
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♥  ♥  ♥  ♥  ♥  ♥  ♥  ♥  ♥

Ra Avis is the author of Sack Nasty: Prison Poetry and the girl behind the dinosaur at Rarasaur.com. She is a once-upon-a-time inmate, a reluctantly-optimistic widow, and an exponential storyteller.

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