The Borrowed Throne

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There was once a peacock who stood at the doorway of a palace and laughed at the swans already inside.

She had not yet been given a room, not yet been handed a key, not yet been seated at the table — but she had already practiced her royal wave in the mirror.

She made little jokes, threw paper arrows, and called it humor.

But jokes have wings, and sometimes they fly back sharper than they left.

When the room answered, she was surprised.

When the crowd laughed back, she called it cruelty.

When the mirror showed her own feathers, she blamed the mirror.

But a borrowed throne is still borrowed.

A crown made of confidence is not the same as one made of grace.

And before mocking the women who survived the storm, one should first ask whether she is walking into shelter — or simply into the same weather with newer shoes.

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