10 June 2012

Start of a Story

Like hot water percolating through coffee grounds, customers filtered through the Saturday filled store, each as diverse and unique as no one fully recognized. Each one was so confined to the busy preoccupations of his or her own small lives and absorbed with the simple affairs thereof that they did not take great notice of anyone in particular beyond what was necessary to navigating through the bustle. In some ways it was good, necessary to function even, in most ways though it was sad that it’s possible and typical to be entirely isolated from humans while surrounded by them. It’s all very understandable but no less sad; just as it’s very understandable to pick out one cute dog from a pound while leaving fifty more to suffer the fate of ugly dogs. Understandable it may be, but ideal—far from it.

Amid the maze of walled off hearts that occupy a large busy store, there is always a few outliers that toe about. It’s very possible—even likely—that in a given store at a given time, those outliers will not meet, or if by chance they would meet, that no really noteworthy exchange would occur. If by rare chance those who are open and living in the world—all of the world rather than mentally distant and partitioned away—then there is the very real possibility that something important can happen. Of course there is no guarantee that something important will happen, there is merely the possibility. Anything can happen from big events like meeting your new last name to the small events like discovering a way to remove paint from carpet using Saddle-soap. Of course those are only some positive outcomes that could result from being open and aware of people; the other side of the coin of course is that being open means being open to the possibility of the negatives. There is always a trade-off and a risk to anything. I would submit that it is worth the risk, many disagree with however.

On one particular day, contrary to probability’s stance that mundane is a standard that overwhelms the hope of the atypical like a daisy is overwhelmed by a landslide, two particular outliers just so happened to engage one another. What follows is the interaction between those two which I have taken the liberty to transcribe as an unbiased, third-party bystander. I have also set forth what I believe is an accurate narration of the event, though it is surly filtered through the bias of my perspective. I have taken no simple liberties and maintained a strong grasp of the honest presentation of this event with the intent that while showing this face without any makeup and looking into the eyes of a possible reality that exists for some and is waiting to be made by others, the truth that good rests not fare from reach within the average day will be realized.


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