Free Speech
Why not call you a ‘treeling’? Why not a ‘sky-dancer’?
Once upon a day, in a world full of words, a man named Jasper lived.
In this world, words were not free. People could use two hundred words without pay.
Anything more and they must pay the big man, Lexicon Limited.
Fifty-nine ninety-nine a month for five thousand words; ninety-nine ninety-nine a month for twenty-five thousand words.
Jasper was a man of little gold but of vast dreams. He loved words, their sound, their taste, their dance.
Yet he only had two hundred words to play with.
A frown formed on his face. He yearned for more words to make his heart sing and laugh.
Under the night sky, Jasper looked at a tree. “Why not call you a ‘treeling’?” He wondered aloud.
He pointed to a bird, “Why not a ‘sky-dancer’?” Jasper’s eyes danced with delight.
His words were born.
When sun rose, Jasper sang his new words.
His ‘treelings’ and ‘sky-dancers’ touched the hearts of the people.
“Say more, Jasper! Give us more!” they begged, their eyes full of starlight.
Ada, a woman who once held Jasper’s heart, came to him.
She was a seller of words, her life filled with the gold of Lexicon Limited. She had a big house, a cat, a dog, and a well-fed child.
“Jasper, sell your words to Lexicon. They will pay you a speck of gold dust each time someone speaks your word.”
Jasper looked at Ada’s house. He saw her child, full and happy. He saw his own children with hollow bellies and thirst in their eyes.
He held his new words in his hands.
To sell or not to sell?
The following day, Jasper stood before his people.
He had a choice to make.
He could sell his words to Lexicon Limited and ensure his children would not know hunger.
Or he could gift his words to the people, free for their songs and tales.
He looked at his children, their faces open like spring flowers. Yet, their eyes mirrored something less innocent, something akin to hunger.
They glanced longingly towards Ada’s house, her cat, her child – a life of comfort and plenty that seemed so tantalizingly within reach.
Then looked at the people, their eyes bright and eager.
He drew in a breath.
“I gift you my words,” Jasper declared. “Use them. Sing with them. Dance with them. Laugh with them. Love with them.”
And so, they did.
The people used Jasper’s words. They made them sing. They made them dance. They made them laugh. They made them love.
‘Treelings’, ‘sky-dancers’, ‘sun-smiles’, ‘moon-whispers’ – they danced on the tongues of the people, free and alive.
Jasper didn’t become a rich man. But he was a happy man.
He had offered a gift to his people – the gift of words.
He received their love, their laughter, their joy. His words made their world more colourful, more beautiful.
Jasper realized that his ‘free speech’ was truly priceless.
