David

David wrote a whimsical, thoughtful story with his 30 sentences:

“On Day One of the sentence-a-day exercise, I was in a conversation in which someone I know was described as ‘a monster.’ The moment dovetailed into some heavy issues I’ve been ruminating on lately—namely, how and why we choose (whether rightly or wrongly) to vilify others. So I started writing some silly rhyming sentences from the perspective of a self-aware monster—and it grew into a children’s story that may or may not actually be appropriate for children.”

Intriguing, no? Read on if you dare!

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We Monsters (A Story for…Children?)

We monsters, you may not realize, are an oft-misunderstood bunch.
Please allow me a moment to share. Step into my office. Or I’ll have you for lunch.
(Sorry, just a little monster humor right there. Let me be clear:
I’m threatening to eat you if you don’t listen, you hear?)
Now then. I for one say that the media’s to blame.
(And yes, I recognize the slippery slope of that game.)
But it’s not like the movies, what with the fur, the fangs, the screams, the crass grotesquerie.
(Although you do know what they say about bad publicity…)
The fact is, most of us monsters are normal, act rather refined.
The Shelley-esque monster? Nah. Simply an outdated relic of its time.
Indistinguishable in the open of plain daylight we hide.

We monsters, would you believe, are lovers and friends.
Not all (not even half, not even a third…though maybe a hexadecile) of our pursuits are for nefarious ends.
You should know, I’m a delight to my nieces, my barista, the #10 bus driver, the old folks down the street.
Even complete strangers, thank you. Dollars to donuts most think I’m quite neat.
And on some days, I actually believe: I’m a better human than you.
(I don’t mean you—you, just…well okay, probably you, too.)
You see, I’ve had my fair share of the tributes, the awards, and the plaudits.
So what can I say? I guess it all just depends on the audience.
And say those who know of my villainous deeds and power-grab words, the schemes in my mind?
The detractors: “Stay far, far away!” My enablers: “Eh, it’s all more-or-less justified.”
Seems a monster—like anyone—will polarize more with the less that they hide.

We monsters, you know, are scarers, by nature of our true trade.
So can I tell you the scariest thing you’re likely to hear on this day?
Okay. It’s that I am you, and you are me, and she is he, and they – yes, they – are we are them.
And there’s a secret that every monster—everywhere—carries within:
An unfulfilled wish or lack or need, way less displayed than the uglier bit.
Even the worst of the worst has this deep-seated bleed, loathe though we be to admit.
So I’ll leave you with this: if indeed you catch a monster in the act of clear wickedry,
You may need to stop [him/her]; weigh the cost, no crying wolf, decide carefully.
(And please, do it for the monster’s own good as well.
Not just out of spite. Not just for the tribe. Not just for the thrill.)
But barring that, please first remember when there’s a monster nearby—
Be kind, my dear friend. Be kind. There’s a ways yet to go, and we all have something monstrous inside.
Some of us are just much better at the seek than the hide.