by Nick Rattigan

Created on: November 18, 2008

The Captive Smile

The dark, foreboding castle sits atop a huge spire of granite, which sticks out of the sea like the arm of a drowning man. Below, waves thunder against the sides, forever besieging this lonely bastion of land. The wind howls like a starving wolf, pelting hail into the cliffs in one ceaseless volley. The sky is dark and grey, the clouds relentlessly cover this place as though embarrassed to let the sun gaze down upon such a forlorn scene.

And deep inside, way down in the darkest, dampest, coldest dungeon, is held my smile.

A while ago a girl helped me build a raft, a rickety thing, hardly even deserving to be called a raft. It was just a jumble of bits and pieces, rudely lashed together and relying completely on her twine to forestall it's complete disintegration. But it was mine, and it was hugely preferable to cross the horrendous gulf between the coast and the spire with it than without. I knew it wouldn't be easy but the girl urged me to set forth and reclaim my smile.

I fought my way through the furious waves to a small, crumbling jetty on the bottom of the edifice and looked up, squinting as the wind blasted my face with ice, at the long climb I still had ahead of me. It seemed a hopeless task, my smile was surely gone forever, but the girl had helped me, was even now waiting for me on the land, so for her sake I climbed.

The rock was treacherously slippery and freezing to the touch. As I climbed meter after tortuous meter I could feel my bones ache from the cold. The wind and hail continued their attack, threatening to tear me down at every step. Resolutely I continued on, my clothes soaked and pulling me down, my fingers bleeding as I struggled to keep purchase. My joints ached from the cold and the effort, my bowels screamed to be loosened, my head spun and my throat burnt with each breath. It seemed my own body had deserted me.

When I was no more than about a third of the way up, the blitzkrieg attack of the elements inevitably gained their victory and I plummeted down, down into the waves.

I don't know for how long I drifted, time is meaningless below the waves, but one day I washed up on shore. Of course the girl was gone. I think I've seen her since, at a distance. She was with a man, a man who holds his smile out before him wherever he goes, a man unafraid to share his smile with the world.

I remember a time when I had such easy access to my smile, though I never used it as much as I probably should have. It was kept in a safe place and

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