Monday, October 8, 2012

Lost and Found

I lost my virginity in my thirteenth year. I’d only just found it to exist. Before that moment, I didn’t know there was such a thing. I was still giggling about having found the word teat in the dictionary.

I lost my innocence well before that occasion. I was only six when I discovered people were not the wonderful creatures I’d been led to believe. And yet I found my innocence at a much later date, lying alongside a circular road I’d lumbered along time and time again throughout my five decades. It was a bit tattered and quite filthy; of course I’m not saying I didn’t have to work really hard to clean it up, to restore it to some semblance of its former glory. But I did, and now I keep it close and available, in case I’m prompted to bring it out and show the world the difference between innocence and naiveté. There is a difference you know. What I’m showing here? You’ll have to guess, I’ve run out of time…

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