The Heartbroken Tasmanian Devils

As Powell entered the room, Barbara slammed shut the cupboard and shouted: “We’re out of yellow tea from Tasmania again. How heartless can you people be? Who could let that happen?”.

Barbara was a famous actress (to be), still learning the ropes of the profession by serving tables in a fancy restaurant downtown. She was also coaching this group called “ The Heartbroken Tasmanian Devils. “ Slamming the cupboard and shouting the rant was her way to start the meeting. Powell found it in turns amusing and irritating.

He was coming to this weekly group session mainly for hugs. Utterly alone the rest of the week, he needed the warmth emanating from an assembly of individuals united towards the same goal. On special evenings, they gave birth to something bigger than them: an encompassing group entity of love and kindness. Each member caring about all the others.

It was an unconscious process. So far, they had never managed to repeat it from one session to another. Barbara had tried all sorts of accents and tones for the opening line, trying to catch them off guard. Mostly, it didn’t work. But once in a while, she succeeded. They could see then see the amazing actress she would become.

Tonight, Powell was determined to unite the participants and make them feel good about it. In the end, they all wanted the same thing. They just couldn’t agree on how to get there. Someone had to take the lead, and Barbara’s role was to facilitate this event. She had been subtly pushing Powell to this spot over the last weeks. Reluctant at the beginning, he had shifted his mindset once he had realized how much he craved to be loved. He knew about it, of course, that’s why he had joined the group. But thanks to Barbara, thanks to her constant interrogations and introspective cues, Powell had discovered the depth of his need. It had scared him.

His eyes had opened when understanding that others could be stuck in even deeper wells of loneliness and anguish. That was too much for him. Being a castaway was one thing, but if everyone had been thrown away, it made no sense to sit there together lamenting.

After Barbara’s usual introduction, Powell stood up and quoted Bukowski:

“We are all going to die, all of us, what a circus! That alone should make us love each other, but it doesn’t. We are flattened and terrorized by trivialities, we are eaten up by nothing.”

“Time for a wake-up call!” Powell added, “I want hugs, I want to fuck, I want to be loved. And I want to share the feelings. I want to love someone. In the end, we all want the same thing. Don’t we? Granted, we might not agree on how to get there. Let us test and learn then. Let us talk and try. Let us share and care. We should not give up on ourselves, we should try our best!”

Write Now Prompt for October 23rd, 2020 — In the end, they all wanted the same thing. They just couldn’t agree on how to get there. If you’d like to take part, check out Today’s Author