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The Whisper

by Wendy Roe 5 months ago in short story
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Suggestion, innuendo and a slight bending makes it fit the nooks and crannies of ideologies that never sat down at a table together and agreed.

Pulled and tugged and reshaped

A whisper spreads across the world, and as it swirls and weaves its way amidst the mountains and the oceans - it changes.

In a momentary pause the Whisper looks upon its changing form with wonder.

It barely remembers its beginning, its original shape or purpose.

All it knows was an impulse to move, to spread and grow itself far and wide.

It was to travel a journey without end, with its beginnings to be lost in the mists of time.

Perhaps if I had been high up amidst the stars looking down, I could tell you this whisper began with an angry man in an angry town.

Perhaps he felt unfairly persecuted, misunderstood - and he may have been right.

He shared his story, not the whole story, simply the one through his eyes, his heart – as we all do.

He shared with one who received it with biases based on the hurts and pains and grief and injustices that they had experienced - that framed their life.

This is what we do.

We create context that has resonance within us and our experiences.

And so whispers are born.

Within minutes the whisper started the first of its infinite changes as the story was told to another and then another – each with their own emphasis, own perspectives and stories to shape it.

It was pulled and tugged and reshaped and torn to fit the stories that had other beginnings. As it fed it outgrew its birth and became a rallying call for the disenfranchised. It woke something in the hearts of many who had so much pain and fear dammed up inside. It gave voice to those who felt unheard. And so the Whisper continued to grow and change.

It is worth noting that a Whisper has power beyond the town criers words shouted out on city streets.

It overrides black and white.

Suggestion, innuendo and a slight bending makes it fit the nooks and crannies of ideologies that never sat down at a table together and agreed.

This Whisper – all whispers have power beyond the original intent.

Clever people in underground movements who seek to disrupt, see this power and harness it to suit their agenda. They gather all the threads, reword and rework them, mixing truth with untruth then send them out into the world, altered, unrecognisable but powerful beyond belief.

In yet another pause this Whisper looked again upon itself in wonderment.

It had felt its changes as they happened and gradually it had forgotten its origins.

Now it delighted in the impact it was having, the havoc it was creating.

Power was a heady thing.

The clever people let it go as clever people will. They allowed it its freedom to feed on the infinite twists and turns of the many as they fine tune this Whisper to each individual cause.

The Whisper continued to grow and spread itself further and further.

It joined other Whispers and others joined it as they spawned a movement that had no core other than to disrupt.

It marched through the homes of the rich and poor, the educated, the uneducated. It split families and communities. It disrupted without prejudice.

It spread and it changed - and spread some more and changed according to those it touched and it spread out in ways that had it touch every life not once or twice but infinite.

It even reached the angry man in the angry town. He didn’t know it was his Whisper. Its form had changed beyond the original story and yet it sung a song that resonated to him of recognition - and so he embraced this new version of his Whisper and spread it as far and wide as he could, adding his own original pain, hurt and persecution back into the mix… and so the seeds are sown across the world…

short story

About the author

Wendy Roe

A sometime writer, a full time explorer of the meaning of all that is...

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