On happy endings

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
I wrote this originally as an attempt at a story which would debate the idea of a happy ending, and then actually have an unhappy one. I failed at that, but made an interesting discovery as I wrote it. If you read it, you'll probably be able to figure it out.

I see it as a short story, though one person said, "I don't see it as a short story as much as a poem of sorts.

Perhaps, part poem, part dialog (such as a play without actions), part debate, and a small part short story."

It may or may not be a bit hard to follow. I'll let you decide what to make of it, though.

Submitted: January 06, 2008

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Submitted: January 06, 2008



“Truly,” she said, “you bring such a proposition as I have never heard the likes of.”
“Surely it has occurred to you?”
“I may have thought of it, but I never thought it possible,” said she.
“Yet I fear it might be so.”
“Can you be so sure?” asked she.
“Would you say otherwise?”
“I most certainly would, I’ve no doubt,” said she.
“Yet cannot doubt waver?”
“So it can,” said she, “so it can. Yet is it not you who doubt?”
“Nay, I do not doubt your belief so much as have faith in my own, and faith is a thing which does not waver.”
“Yet all the evidence shows otherwise,” said she, “Can one hold firm against the millions?”
“I would think not, unless it was that the millions were holding firm against the one.”
“But they’ve always said that- that what you say simply cannot be true,” said she, “It has always been this way, and always shall.”
“You say always, and so your point cannot be proven, unless it stands for eternity.”
“Yet surely the millions can stand firm against the one?” said she.
“In millions, surely one will waver.”
“Is that not what the one has done in the first place, though?” asked she, “Creating an opposition in the absence of conflict?”
“Quite so, and it is the one that I fear.”
“This one,” said she, “could disrupt it all. It simply is not right.”
“What one will do to be known- to let their legacy be known…”
“You…” said she, in abrupt realization, “I see what you’ve done. Why, you’ve ruined it all!”
“And so the one breaks through the millions.”
“Could it…” said she, “Could it all end so easily?”
“Not so, I fear.”
“No?” said she.
“Not at all.”
“The millions still resist…?” questioned she.
“For a time.”
“Why, then, do you fear it is not so?” asked she.
“The one has not truly started a conflict, but merely suggested one. It was the millions who took the bait.”
“And the one…” said she, “he stands strong?”
“His job is done.”
“If the one did so little, then who is really to blame?” said she.
“The one is hardly an antagonist, but the millions are no longer any sort of protagonists. Who can say that there is a happy ending to be found?”
“Has the one no conscience?” cried she, “Are the millions so blind?”
“So the one stood strong against the millions, and succeeded.”
“But there it is,” said she, “seen that way, there is indeed a happy ending.”
“And so the millions make a comeback. Who is the protagonist now?”
“The one and the millions,” said she, “Each is a protagonist in their way. They’ve all their reasons. Is it not a happy ending somehow either way?”
“You speak the truth.”
“Is the one at least failing?” asked she.
“That is easily remedied.” Ten seconds and a muffled scream later, she was dead. “Peculiar… I have made my point well, yet it in itself wavers. Indeed, I look at it one way and it stands strong, and the other it quickly fades. It’s all in the point of view. The one stands strong against the millions, and the millions hold firm against the one. The war rages on. It cannot end well, I see that now, but neither can it truly end badly. Every action has an equal and opposite reaction. Who is to say if there really is a happy ending?”

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