A Calculated Risk

A Story by Luke

A calculated risk, thats what I tell myself. I piss poor jester’s joke to blind king is what it is. It will work when I see all the outcomes. But I cant see any of them and all are laughing at what I cant see.

Perhaps it is safe here because I know none will follow me into the dark. So this dancing party will go on by myself. It is still dark and there is no music. But it is only then that I know I may shed a smile.

There is something cryptic about this satire. We all laugh at something we know we shouldn’t. Jade leaves fall from the withered tree; there is nothing funny about that.

I want to play with fire she tells me. My dear does not realize that the embers of the last brand still linger. She is angry with me; I have pushed her to the ground. I wait until she leaves before I start to cry. They know not with whom they mettle. These words are cryptic too you. To me they are cautious.

The earthquake sings; to the girl’s guitar it is just another good vibration. It still amazes me what those hands can create. Yet I am never found disappointed with what those hands may destroy. How fitting, I consider my investment in you a calculated risk.