Scarlet Robe Creations

“You know I’m broken,” she says.   He nods, understanding her need to continue her story without interruption.   “I’ve never been loved.   Not a real love.   I’ve been used.   People have said they loved me, but they always wanted something in return.   That’s the way it is with love… right?   It’s never free.”   “You think there’s a monetary price?” He asks.   She pauses for a moment, but responds before he can fill the void. “No not monetary.   Sometimes I wish that’s all that was involved, money.   Sometimes the price is pain, emotional, physical.   Sometimes there is humiliation.   I’ve been stripped, I bear my soul… and then I’m tossed out like the trash.”   “That isn’t love.”   “They call it love.”   “Just saying,” he adds.   “My mother called it love.”   “But do you think it was love?” He asks.   “I wanted her to love me.   She told me once she considered abortion.   I feel so...

Some tell me it's a book of stories contradictory to each other. A hundred fables thrown into a volume, much like any other book with the same purpose. Some let it set collecting dust on a table top displayed, so others might think it is often read. Some never leaf through the pages or sing one song within. They who who have no guide, who say they don't need crutches. Some open the book often and see each passage as an act of love. They are the wheat, who acknowledge their need for contradiction. copyright 2016 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author