Last night, I had a dream which was so realistic, and so compelling, that I woke nearly in tears. I jotted it down as best I could remember so that I could share it here. I call it,
Virginia
I didn’t know the woman. I didn’t even know there was another woman like me in this little hick town, but I felt so bad for her. Nobody knew who she really was until they read her last will and testament, that she be laid to rest dressed appropriately, and under a grave marker bearing the name she wanted for herself, “Virginia.”
I knew what it was like, to live my whole life not being myself, but for her to have died without ever really living shook me up enough that I decided it was time to make my move. I had been working on my voice for two years, and building up a small wardrobe, but what I lacked until now, was the courage to step into the role I so wanted to play. I would become Zoe today, now, and forever, and I would attend this poor woman’s funeral to honor the fallen friend I never knew I could have had.
As I approached the church, a chill wind whipped at my ankles just as an older man, easily old enough to be my father, approached me. He had a snakelike, lecherous smile as his gaze started at my heels, following the curve of my legs to where they disappeared into my black pencil skirt at my knee. Only then would he look me in the eye, pretending to offer a friendly smile as though I hadn’t noticed his leering mere seconds before.
“I don’t believe I’ve seen you around these parts before, Ms.,” he trailed off, waiting for me to give him my name. I smirked indifferently and walked inside. This was a funeral, not a bar. Even if I did like men, everything about him told me I should keep my distance.
I found a place to sit near the back, and I watched as the lecherous snake in sheep’s clothing stood at the pulpit. To my horror, he would be giving the service for the fallen woman who had lived her entire life as Virgil.
“What makes a man a man, or a woman a woman?” he began. “This abomination before you will surely burn in righteous fire for all eternity my friends.”
As he preached his bile, the congregation gasped and whispered, murmuring varying levels of agreement and disagreement. Finally, I could take no more of this, and I stood up. His lecherous smile returned as I approached the pulpit, and I whispered in his ear.
“I would like to speak,” I said softly. He nodded.
“By all means. I’m glad I’ve moved you so,” he replied as he stepped aside.
“Most of you don’t know me, but I’ve lived here my whole life. I never knew Virginia, but I know how she suffered. This man,” I pointed to the bile-spewing monster, “claims she was an abomination, but who is the real abomination? A woman who lived her whole life in secret to protect her family from people like him, or the monster who would condemn her at her own funeral for asking to be allowed in death, to be who she couldn’t in life?”
“Now wait just a minute-” he began, but a tall, bearded man with broad shoulders stood up.
“Hey, let the woman speak. We’ve heard enough of your brimstone rhetoric.”
He shrank back, and I continued. “Thank you. Let me remind you all that pride is the greatest of sins. Pride is why Lucifer was thrown down to earth, and pride makes men spew filth and bile under false pretences of love. If this man is an example of God’s love, then he represents no God that I know or want any part of.
"The God I know teaches that we are ALL His children, not just those who don't make us uncomfortable with ourselves because they make the hard choices we would never have the courage to make.
“Without Virginia, I would never have found the courage to stand here, before you, to stand up for what’s right, and to say I am a woman, and I am human. Do not let pride rule your life. Don’t hate her, or me, because we made the hard choices to be ourselves. All I, all we, ask is tolerance and acceptance.”
Silence filled the room as what I had just said, that I had lumped myself in with Virginia, sank in. The lecherous snake gawked in shock. Slowly I turned to leave, and the preacher returned to his pulpit.
“Well, now that’s quite-” he began, but was drowned out by the thunderous applause that rose up behind me. When I turned back, not a man, woman, or child still remained seated. The bearded man who spoke in my defense earlier approached the preacher, taking his microphone away from him.
“Son, I do believe you’d better be finding a new town to spread your filth ‘cause you’re not welcome here anymore.”
Author's Note:
I'm going to go ahead and apologize here at the end, for the roughness, surrealness, and the super-shortness, but that's just the nature of dreams. :-)
Comments
Short, moving, and great.
You did a great job with this and it's sure to move a lot of people. It moved me.
Bailey Summers
Sad to say it would not likely happen but what a great idea
Seeing a self rightous hypocrit taken down like that after spewing his filth was sooooo satifying.
Nice intense piece, Zoe.
Sadly here are too many like than bast*** in real life. Be different, be TG, be malformed by injury or birth defect or in my late sister's case, be born severly disabled and all too many are eager and willing to bring down the wrath of THEIR God, to bring down their unthinking, vile hate.
John in Wauwatosa
P.S. Sorry about *the venting* but people like that character realllllly push my *buttons*. Thankfully I am not violent by nature or I'd get in a lot of trouble over it.
P.P.S. Bravo Zoe.
John in Wauwatosa
The saddest part of all...
...is that this 'preacher' will find a place that welcomes him. Rough, short, and surreal work here. Thanks for posting this; a grim reminder, yet not without hope!
Dio vi benedica tutti
Con grande amore e di affetto
Andrea Lena
Love, Andrea Lena
Unfortunately true
It's unfortunately true that men like him are far too easily accepted by society. I like to hope, to believe that everyone has the potential to change, but the problem is they have to want to change, which is I think, why Pride was such a strong theme throughout.
I had originally planned on just posting this as a blog post, but the further in I got, the more I realized this read like a piece of fiction. I guess technically dreams are fiction we write when we're asleep. ^_^
Normally I try to avoid the subject of religion because it's a sensitive subject with me, but everything Dream Zoe said moved me so deeply that I wanted to try and recapture her speech, word for word.
More Than
I wouldn't say this falls under the subject of religion in itself. More likely of acceptance and understanding and condemning without thought.
The so-called preacher reminded me of stupid people in positions of power, a dangerous combination. Like a child given a loaded gun to play with.
I didn't anything really rough about it.
More than "technically"
Dreams, creativity, “The Muse”…they all come from the same place. Many authors keep dream journals handy on their nightstands, and train themselves to wake up and jot down their dreams while they are still fresh. People who write from this Source really speak to their audiences, because the Dreamer in each of us is listening.
Hey Zoe. First of all you have nothing to apologize for.
I have been saying what you have written here, for decades. We want to get on with our lives, and all we want is the "love every child oughta get" (From West Side Story). With that love comes acceptance and tolerance. I live in a small redneck town in northeastern lower Michigan. There was one open M2F here before me, but the rednecks drove her out, because she couldn't take the abuse. I am not that easily put off. I have handled rougher and more dangerous men than this little town can manufacture. So I live in tolerant harmony with the people of the town. Because of the other M2F's experience, there are quite a few M2F here, but right now I am the only open one.
I remember a Lutheran minister in Milwaukee, Wisconsin who had his sermon all picked out. But when he saw me enter the church, he smiled and changed his sermon to that of love, acceptance and tolerance. He spoke of the prodigal son, the lost sheep, do unto others as you would have them do unto you, and be thy brother's (and sister's) keeper. He spoke that because we are all separate human beings, we are all different in the way that we see how our lives should be lived. This minister was not a lecherous old, sex starved fool. He was a decent man who cared about the welfare of his parishoners souls.
You have done well with this one, Zoe, and this should even be sent to mainstream magazines telling them the time has come for the public to be educated about what it is that we want from others. I don't think that asking for acceptance, love and tolerance is asking too much. Thank you for sharing this lovely story.
"With confidence and forbearance, we will have the strength to move forward."
Love & hugs,
Barbara
"If I have to be this girl in me, Then I have the right to be."
"With confidence and forbearance, we will have the strength to move forward."
Love & hugs,
Barbara
"If I have to be this girl in me, Then I have the right to be."
I Do Battle With These Types Often
I do battle with these types often and I can say with a great degree of certainty that there are a lot of people exactly like this "preacher" in cyberspace and in communities all over the country. They seem to feel that they are so much better than LGBT people and profess that they have the right to pass judgment on people and act like they already know that the person they are condemning is going to Hell. A comedian that I like has this song called "The 39 Things My Uncle Told Me On His Deathbed" One of the things was 'How many get to Heaven? No one knows, but Hell will be asses and elbows". I feel the same way Zoe does in the story. This man does not represent the God I know. Fred Phelps immediately comes to mind as one of those who falls squarely in this category. I am glad that there are people like the bearded man who show up to any event he comes to and stands on the side of love.
Short but sweet!
Prejudice is all around, but so, given a chance, is tolerance. I loved this piece
Ginger xx
To paraphrase Bukowski
People who call other people an abomination usually are...
A sweet little smackdown of a viciously "righteous" idiot, with a wonderful element of being true to
and standing up for yourself, and giving Virginia at least some postumous acknowledgement.
So much good stuff packed into such a short tale. Wish I'd dreamt it...
~~hugs, Veronica
What borders on stupidity?
Canada and Mexico.
.
I wonder though
If the bile the 'preacher' spouted wasn't harder on our authoress than on us - after all, Zoe, it was your dream, right? Hugs!
Faraway
Big Closet Top Shelf
Where you can fool around like you want to and most you get is some bemused good ribbing!
Faraway
Big Closet Top Shelf
Where you can fool around like you want to and most you get is some bemused good ribbing!
Zoe, no need to apologize
Zoe, no need to apologize ever is required. Your story's comment and mental picture that you drew are indeed right on and wonderful. These words definitely need to be said. Hugs, Jan
Virginia
Zoe, you spoke for me in your story through the bearded man who I believe was sent by GOD.
May Your Light Forever Shine
May Your Light Forever Shine
Without Virginia...
It is short and a little rough around the edges but the impact of the story still stands. I honestly don't think this is a story you need to come back and polish in future either. Just leave it as it is.
Maybe its because I'm feeling a bit emotional at the moment but for me the religious aspect of the story had less of an impact than the theme of inspiration in the story. The standout line for me was:
"Without Virginia, I would never have found the courage to stand here, before you, to stand up for what’s right, and to say I am a woman, and I am human."
I think we all need a Virginia sometime in life, someone to help us find the courage to stand up for ourselves.
Good short story Zoe.
"Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it."
Excellent!
Such vile creatures impersonating servants of God get their just deserts far, far too infrequently.
And far, far too few people have the nerve to challenge 'em.
Twenty some years ago, I had a friend who was the victim of such a hatchet-job funeral. His sin? Smoking. (He was a Mormon.) Many of his friends were outraged, but no one had the nerve to stand up and challenge the yahoo preaching.
Bravo!
I Give Unto You A New Commandment
Ubi caritas et amor, Deus ibi est.
Congregavit nos in unum Christi amor.
Exultemus, et in ipso iucundemur.
Timeamus, et amemus Deum vivum.
Et ex corde diligamus nos sincero.
WHERE charity and love are, God is there.
Christ's love has gathered us into one.
Let us rejoice and be pleased in Him.
Let us fear, and let us love the living God.
And may we love each other with a sincere heart
The Commandment, two millennia old.
These words, at least one.
an excellent dream
the reaction of the townspeople is wonderful. Now, if it only would happen in real life...
"Treat everyone you meet as though they had a sign on them that said "Fragile, under construction"
dorothycolleen
Such courage
Born out of hatred. If you believe in eternity, then people like that preacher will live very long to regret their playing God.
Thank you Zoe for a short, sharp lesson in love. This is up there with Scott Ramsey's 'Prodigal' as required reading for anyone aspiring to a religious ministry.
Sadly, TG doesn't limit the flow of hatred that these self-appointed judges can condemn.
S.
Zoe,
ALISON
'that was a beautiful dream and you have nothing to apologize for,a great little short story.
ALISON
Some day
Some day, some day. I think some of our youngest sisters here may live long enough to see that day, but probably not me. But that part is okay with me. As Dr. Martin Luther King said, I may not get there with you but that's all right because I have been to the mountain top and I have seen that day in the distance.
Zoe, please don't be quite so hard on yourself? Your story was exactly the right length. A story should be just as long as it needs to be, and then it should end: does that sound right to you? Just like a song, or a poem. It isn't so rough really, although if you want to polish it up some then that would probably be just fine, also. Surreal? It didn't feel that way to me. What the news reports every day, and how it is presented, seems far more surreal.
Annemarie
P.S. Zoe is a very lovely name. :-)
Anchors that bind
Thanks Zoe, the sad truth is that this is reality for many people, condemmed rather than loved unconditionally, shouted at before being listened to, bound before being set free.
I Have had to deal with the barbs and chains that bind, only recently have I been told to let them go and not let myself by anchored to the past. This was by my new pastor that understands Grace comes before all other concepts, dogmas and doctrinal theology.
One day I hope we see tolerance in the place that was setup for Grace and Love.
Kerry
Dreams
Dreams are exactly that, Rough Surreal and Short, There is no need to apologize for any of that.
Virginia is sweet and beautiful, both in story and as a dream. I could see everything you depicted in the story as if it were happening on the TV in front of me. You write like a goddess has gifted you and it is a remarkable gift. Thank you for sharing your gift with us.
Jayme Ann
The answers to all of life's questions can be found in the face of a true friend
The answers to all of life's questions can be found in the face of a true friend
Some disjointed coments:
The story is fine just as it stands, especially since it is stated it's a dream.
-
I was reading some random posts concerning gender issues just out there on the web on random news sites, and in the comments while I saw posts by haters for the most part I saw positive comments in support of those are who are different. This by no means a proper way of measuring things, but it seems we are getting there bit by bit.
-
Beyond the familiar issue of gender and all that goes with that, I find I another bone to pick with the preacher.
How dare he no mater the issue or his opinion stand up and tear anyone down at their eulogy, he should have stepped away and let some on else do the job.
-
Wouldn't you just love to have the proverbial "fly on the wall" view, or maybe for modern times "security camera footage" of people such as this preachers eventual meeting with their maker?
.
The God of the Christian Bible does not defend her brand name against attacks by vermin such as the one in this story because she can't. It is one of the drawbacks of existing as a concept. Christians, on the other hand, exist physically and can defend against such attacks.
The bearded man (our hero) and Zoe (our hero/heroine) are examples of religion gone good. The preacher (our villain) is an example of religion gone bad.
The applause of the congregation is an example of the sheep (most of us, after all, are followers) looking at the choices in front of them and picking the right one. It is also another example of religion gone good.
This is fiction (and well done by the way - thanks for a very nice story). But things like this actually do happen in real life. I just wish they would happen more often.
***
All of us suffer when the religious among us fail to defend their God's brand name against attacks by those who would force their God to do evil.
T
Woot
Short and sweet. Nice!