Which Lion Vile

Gentles, perchance you wonder at this show;

But wonder on, ‘til truth make all things plain.

~William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Act V, Scene 1

How many, how much of

life has dissolved while you,

in your Place of Honour, kept

silent, she asked.

Wall said nothing.

Is this… no, T H I S, she

pointed, is this the first

moon, the blue one,

the one I told you

Not to Miss. Or is it the

other – the yellow – no – the

tansy one, the tansy one with

its amber faults that will not

rise again for lifetimes upon

lifetimes upon lifetimes?

Still Wall was silent.

She flipped a page

now this one I

Know, this one I

Named. I named it

before you even

considered Names,

before there was ever

any… … …

what comes before

dreams?

Before dreams there is colour,

Wall spoke.

Primarily Primary Colour.

Oh,

she said,

Yes, I can see that,

she said.

For there was no

red,

she said.

There was no

green,

she said.

There was no

blue,

she said.

Before You.

she said.

Now you are grown Maudlin,

whispered Wall with a flake.

Unworthy, Unbecoming.

Yes, she said. Well – not

that this is an excuse — but

Maudlin

does come from living

with, surrounded and upheld

by, the Alice Blue marble of your

cold, straight back;

does come from languishing

in, engulfed and entombed

by, the Blanched Almond Bisque of your

unyielding, flint arms. From living in

arches and holes, branches and water, with

snake-railed deer and Bradbury mushrooms,

Orange

with never a shelter of

Grey.

Wall said nothing.

Do you remember, she asked

after a moment. Do you remember

when first you saw me?

No, answered Wall without

pause. I do not remember.

I do not remember, because there was

never

Time

without you in it.

Oh my, she laughed. sometimes I

forget, if you can imagine, just how

clever you are.

Wall cracked quietly near the roof.

Well,

she said.

I remember.

I was Black and White.

always.

Noir et Blanc.

toujours.

but I knew enough of

Colour

to be afraid, to be truly

afraid, of your mirrored

gaze. The one that went

through me, all the way to

Summer.

Warnings were posted, reminded Wall.

Yes, she said, pointing. There first, then

there, and finally There – the Brilliant

Pink one with the Brick Red teeth.

You chose to ignore them, reminded Wall.

And you chose to let me, she nodded.

Wall said nothing, though his chink

quivered

a bit.

There was a long pause

then she said,

Do you know, that when you

enter, if you enter, a maze,

you should keep your

left hand on the

left wall, on the

Left wall without

ever letting go.

If you do that, you will,

eventually, come to safety.

but only

if

you never let go

Of Me, Wall said.

Yes, she sighed.

of you.

Which is all green and

good. If you enjoy a

maze.

Wall was silent. As only

a Mechanical can be.

She turned another

page. Never let them

say, she said. Never

let them say there is no

colour in Hell. Never let

them say, she said. There is

only Red. Never let them say,

she said. There is only heat.

No.

There is Cold in Hell.

Cold.

There is Cold in Hell.

and it is

Full

of colour.

Wall began to weep, water

seeping from his corners.

All our life, she said,

You have been tired.

And selfish

And determined to

save, determined to

care for, everyone;

everyone

everyone

Everyone

but me.

Not true! cried Wall.

Not true, not true, not true…

She blew her nose.

oh well, she said, turning

back from Wall. There

is also no

Truth

within the walls of

Hell; within the beautiful

Harlequin walls of

Hell

is there?