We have all heard of the white knights, and the dark ones. White knights were easy to spot, a rarity, but easy to spot. Any amateur seeker would be able to spot white knights, that is why there is a plethora of them. They are the harvard, oxford going developmental academics, the high fliers, the ones that ooze with nobleness and goodness. The ones that are slightly boring, the churchgoing civil servants. She grew bored of being the white seeker as quickly as a week and turned in the easy living to be a seeker of the knighthood of the dark.
Oh that position took her places, for it was not easy seeking out a dark knight. They are so often wrapped in layers of deceitful bad behaviour that it is hard to discern. The dark places needed their knights and so she worked hard. But it was the dark knights that caused her to be burnt out as much as she loved that job. The places she would go in search of the dark knight, for the dark knight loomed in dark places and could only be found out if one can see through souls. She grew tired in time for those quests were long and hard, often jaded by the deceitful dark knight wannabes.
She was summoned one rainy night to be given a new task. Have you heard of the yellow knight, her mistress asked her. She nodded. The yellow knight were the rarest for the were so often hidden among the ordinary. But the high and low places has knights enough for the ladies, it was this in-between world, the ordinary one that is hungry for its knights and where there are no knights, the ladies retire into being normal.
It had been a long quest, seeking out yellow knights, she had begun to lose heart, for maybe the ordinary world had no knights. No one worthy of being called sir. No one, yellow. It was that particular night, when the rain poured down heavy that fear began to shoot up within her heart for the females who lived in the world. They are doomed to decripitude, and to slide down the slippery slope of eroded values. No knights, no ladies. The ordinary world is doomed.
They had stolen her shoes, and it was pouring down heavy. She glided across town drenched hiding her shoeless feet beneath her long white skirt. She slipped into the dimly lit restaurant where the jazz band had begun playing and wrapped her scarf tightly around herself. She popped into the bathroom and dried out a little using some toilet paper as she stood under the hand dryer.
She slowly emerged and scanned the place but it was hard to see, not only was it dimly lit but it was smoky. The bassist, eyes-closed moved his body to the beat of his own music and his shoulders rocked forward and back while the drummer, young, she could tell, was skillful, yes but lacked the character of a seasoned musician. He was a little too loud, too keen to show off. The pianist, she sighed, his enthusiasm took personality out of the band, too brash. They were too brash.
She tiptoed between the tables, it was a full-house that night. She looked at each face as closely as she can while she walked past. How many of these she wondered actually appreciated this music? The couple seated in the centre was full of it, both dressed in black, he had his head cocked to the right and hands folded, it was hard to get the word pretentious out of her mind as she examined his face. She passed him by. And then there was he with the sunglasses, in the middle of a stormy night, in a smoky dimly lit restaurant. She chuckled, the restaurant was not the only thing that was dim, the brightness of his wit was questionable.
She huddled up in the corner and greeted the waitress who served her a cup of hot chocolate, just because she looked awfully cold. Her toes were beginning to turn purple, she tucked them in under her skirt as she slid onto a stool.
Her white skirt grew crisp as it dried under the air conditioning and her body warmed up and she yawned, tired. She slid off the stool and out the door back into the rainy night and walked back to her the flat in yellowtown reflecting along the way on all the faces she had seen and wondering if she had missed a yellow knight. She sighed, for she had not seen a heart of quality that night, and wondered how rare it is in this world for a bright yellow heart.
She hummed a tune and tiptoed home noting to herself she was in need of new shoes. The gravel underneath her feet begins to hurt it but the mist and cold had brought a certain different to the place. A rider rode pass in a white horse and she lifted her brow. It was cliche really, so she dismissed it and slipped into the back alley and followed the road back to the flat.
She turned back into the main road as the rider rode past again and this time she caught the rider's eye. He bowed slightly as he lifted his hat to greet her, and he smiled a smile that warmed her heart. She curtsied and turned to unlock her door thinking that it could not be, for it was cliche really, maybe this is why she never forgot her first yellow knight.
She slipped out of her wet clothes and into the hot shower she pondered upon the rider in yellow and blue. That was easy, for it was her mistress' instructions that a yellow knight is distinguished by his warmth and ability to make the heart smile. She took out her note book and wrote down his name.
She took out her red dress and dialed her mistress' number for it had been a while before she pronounced clearly the title only a deserving man could bear, Sir. She sighed a sigh of relief and smiled, for this ordinary world was not so knight-less after all. Bless the ladies.
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