Aerial Silk

She was headed off to the seamstress, full of delight and nearly skipping on her walk over to the shop. She was going to try on the newly made dress for her performance this weekend. She was an artist, and she created her art with her body. Those who came to see her work were astonished at her nimbleness and how she deftly contorted her frame, seeming to move all parts independently, yet when brought together as a whole they were in perfect harmony. This dress was the final piece, her practice was done and her performance prepared, the venue was set and the word was out on the street. All she needed was a star upon her Christmas tree and it would be completed, ready to be admired by all.

Before she knew it she had arrived at the dressmakers shop, she almost skipped past it, stopped herself and went in. She was cordially greeted and was told the dress was almost done, it would be just a bit longer. She sat down to wait and a few minutes turned into many. The receptionist had left her station and the store, at least the front, was empty. The emptiness seemed to present her the opportunity to look around, spurred on by her boredom. She got up and began aimlessly wandering around the front of the shop, but quickly moved towards the back where the dresses were made. As she wandered back there she noticed a strong silence. She expected to hear something as she knew the seamstress was back there working, and the receptionist was attending to business behind one of the many closed doors lining this hallway, long and dark which extended to the very back of the store. At the end of the hallway there was a door that for some reason looked different than the others. It was the same color and shade, same door handle, but it almost had a distinct glow, a certain essence to it. She slowly walked towards this door, almost in a trance, and completely unaware of her surroundings.

She opened the door slowly, just cracking it at first, and peaking in to see if anyone was there. After this initial intrusion she flung the door wide open and stepped inside. There it was. Her dress! It was beautiful, more than she could’ve ever imagined. She ran up to it, stopping short as if she was afraid to disturb it and started examining its intricate detail. At first glance it looked finished, but after closer examination she noticed something, something moving.

She bent down and looked closely, it was a worm. A silkworm at that. Then she noticed another, and another, and another, then a whole line of them, marching to and fro, from the only closet in the room. They were making the dress! She was astonished, but this quickly turned into curiosity. She followed the line of silkworms over to the closet, paused for a moment, then grabbed the knobs and flung it open. There was a whole wilk worm habitat, with soil and water, and all the amenities a silkworm needs. But then she looked closer, the moths were up in cages? And their babies were forced to work, clearly too hard and with not enough food. Their bodies silently screamed. In an instant she could see the hell she was looking at, all the horrors, the atrocities of it all. 

She couldn’t just stand there, she had to do something. That’s when she knew. She pressed her face to the glass and apologized to the moths, she couldn’t save them, there was nothing she could do. But she could save their babies, she promised them, then she went over and put on the nearly finished dress, gently so as to not hurt any of the kids. After settling into the dress as best she could, put awkwardly over her clothes as there was no time to waste, she bent down to the level of the silkworms and said, “who wants to go on an adventure.” She saw their excitement and immediately got, opened the window, and vaulted herself into freedom. The silkworms followed and were ecstatic about their newfound independence, and energized by their first gulps of fresh air. They became jittery with enthusiasm and before she knew it her feet had left the ground. The silk worms were turning into Moths! She was carried by strings of silk and moved like a puppet at the will of the silkworms. As they carried her higher these strands of silk turned into magnificent ribbons that flowed out from her dress and waved in the wind. Soon she was in control, wrapping the ribbons around her arms and legs, she began controlling her body, as she had practiced for the show but not at all like before. Here up in the clouds she was free, truly free, and with this freedom her body was unrecognizable in form and function.

Just when she was in ecstasy, no thoughts, only feelings and freedom, it all came crashing down. Suddenly she was no longer flying but falling, the ribbons flapping helpless in the wind as she hurdled towards the earth. Crashing into the ground she created a crater, more like a hole, deep into the ground below From the bottom of this hole she heard a crowd beginning to form on the surface. As she was climbing out their tone of voice became more distinct, the crowd sounded angry. When she was at the top, or close to it, close enough to see the crowd and for the crowd to see her, the first bits of food were thrown at her. As she mounted the surface the number and variety of objects thrown at her increased. When she finally had a chance to stand up and look around she knew why, there were dead silkworms all around, splattered across the pavement. Before she knew it she was tackled to the ground, handcuffed, and thrown in the back of a patrol car. 

The moths testified at her trial, the silkworms, the few that survived, did not. They were too young and too traumatized to be allowed at the trial, and their testimony was not needed anyways, the moths had seen more than enough. Her charges were: kidnapping, attempted murder, and murder in the first degree. A jury of her peers found her guilty, and after being confined to a cell encased in silk; with silk walls, a silk floor and ceiling, a silk bed and silk clothes, for the remainder of her appeal process, she was executed by lethal injection. The surviving silkworms were there to watch.