Today’s words: Inexpensive, Rich, Useful, Basket
Word count: 517
Summary: Imagine a world where straight people felt safe in their love, and people of other sexualities didn't....oh, wait.
Completion time: 1 hour 10 mins
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When I’m walking down the street, people never fail to stare
at the basket I’m holding. Once they’ve had a good ol’ gander, they look at me
like a bad stink or clearly feel sorry for me. Blinking back the occasional
tear, I just hold onto the wicker handle tighter and force my head high, no
matter who tries to bring me down.
I’ve had over-confident men try to steal it from me, older
people knocking it from my hands as if I’m not worthy of it, and many people
creating a path for me as I walk by like what I’m carrying is radioactive.
If you’re 'normal', you get a state-of-the-art briefcase to
hold your partner’s heart…if you’re not, you get an inexpensive basket. That’s ‘just
the way the world works’, or so my parents told me when I started developing
crushes on other girls.
“But, what, that isn’t fair, why can’t I have a cool
briefcase too?” I protested, knotting my eyebrows together, confused.
“Only straight people are allowed the briefcases, honey.”
I stole a look at my parents’ wine-coloured briefcases that
were set on the floor next to each other. They were like a pair of shoes that I
would be forever doomed to look at but never own. “No way…but why?”
“We live in a very hetero-normative society, and…” my father
tried to explain after he cleared his throat.
“Hetero-what?”
“It means that heterosexual is the norm, so anything else is…”
being careful to choose the right words, he added, “abnormal, not publicly
accepted.”
Mum took over, putting one leg over the other and leaning
forwards. “How many heterosexuals have you seen on TV or in the media?”
I answered as I looked at the blank TV screen. “Loads…” the question
wasn’t very difficult. “I see them all the time.”
“Exactly, and how many people who aren’t?”
I thought about that question harder and turned back to her.
“Sometimes.”
“You see?”
“…But wait, why a basket?”
“Well, baskets aren’t very useful for holding things
securely. People don’t want you to feel comfortable with your love, and baskets
have no locks, zips, or anything else for protection.”
“And I reckon that people will expect you to give up
eventually because you’re sick of your partner’s heart being so vulnerable.”
I was scared. Scared to fall in love...and I didn't even know what 'love' was yet.
My mother took both of my hands in hers. “But I just want
you to know, no matter whom you choose to love, you are not beneath anyone, alright? You’re a fucking
warrior princess.”
My father’s eyes widened and he scolded my mum. “Susan!”
I laughed, blushing slightly for hearing my mum swear.
“Now, when you do
fall in love, I want you to hold that basket tight with your head held high.
Defend that girl’s heart for all it’s worth; promise me that.”
With my mother’s words still ringing in my ears, I raised my
head higher; I was rich, far richer than society would have me believe.
My basket was cheap, but with her heart inside, its worth rivaled the rarest of gems.
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