The Verdigris-Coated Soul
written by: Ian Fletcher
Even the water looks oppressed and cowed on this freezing cold morning. Icicles reach down into the sea from the wharf. I had just wanted to relax over a latte in a café near Wall Street, but he has insisted we make the boat trip across the channel to see the Statue of Liberty. He wants to climb up it—to say I’ve been there, done that.
Oh, how I have tired of his controlling nature, his self-confidence, his need to explain the world.
Knowledge of what? He is a know-all, a bore, a mansplainer, unable to read my feelings, perceive my moods, hear my silences.
We land on the barren shore of the island, part of a huddle of miserable-looking tourists battered by the icy Atlantic wind. The statue towers above us.
“Did you know it was once a shiny copper color?” he says. No, I don’t know—nor do I care. I say nothing, but he continues.
“Yeah! But over time the copper oxidized, making the exterior the verdigris color we see today.”
Of course, he would know the precise word. I am no longer impressed.
I turn my gaze away from him and look out over the open sea.
I am jaded. He has become the verdigris that has coated my soul. Can I break free and shine again like the statue as it once was?
NOTE:
Based on the Prompt – The Color of Goodbye
- The Verdigris-Coated Soul - May 17, 2025
- At a Temple in Taiwan - April 14, 2025
- Golden Boy - July 8, 2024
