The morning fog was lifting as she stepped outside, and the day promised to be bright and hot. Another perfect late summer day in northern paradise; day after gorgeous day had paraded by, seemingly oblivious to the oncoming autumn, lulling the world into a drowsy complacency. Moving briskly, the young woman walked up the street toward the old part of town, past lovely old Victorian homes pressed between newer apartment buildings, and on into the busier streets that led to her morning’s destination. As she passed others on the street, she looked away, toward the shop windows already sporting fall colors, avoiding any eye contact that might prompt a response, or slow her progress. Just ahead she could see the sign proclaiming “Eats!”, and the crowd of people outside, waiting and hoping for an opening inside. As she drew abreast of the door, she could see the people inside, talking, laughing, eating; she could see the staff rushing from table to table, pouring coffee, delivering food, frantically trying to keep abreast of the horde of orders and demands. She thought to herself, “they won’t have to do that much longer!”. With that thought, she drew the homemade bomb from her pocket, twisted the knob at the top, and calmly bent over to roll it across the floor toward the kitchen in the rear of the room. She turned away from the door and walked quickly away, twenty steps, then thirty, then BOOM! as the device exploded, sending large pieces of building and people flying into the street, along with most of the crowd in front. As she strolled away she thought to herself, “That will teach them to burn my bacon!”…….Justice had prevailed…..
Okay, so they can’t all be classic literature. You try to come up with something new every day, and see how easy it is….NOT! Days such as this one it all comes down to whatever pours out onto the screen; I don’t consciously direct the process, but just let it flow. Sometimes it works, and others, well….not so much. You can decide for yourself, I’m sure…..and I’m sure you will. In the meantime, I like this little group, especially the little poem from Emily; it’s a perfect example of why her level of excellence is difficult to reach. Simple words, strung together in a seemingly random fashion, and POW, the idea smacks you right upside the head. Good stuff…..
The good man is the teacher of the bad,
And the bad is the material from which the good may learn.
He who does not value the teacher,
Or greatly care for the material,
Is greatly deluded although he may be learned.
Such is the essential mystery.
— Lao-Tzu (fl. BC 600)
“What seems to be no test, no struggle, is the most deceiving test of all.” — Ezra Taft Benson
“And in the end the love you take is equal to the love you make.” — The Beatles, The last lyric of their last song
A word is dead
When it is said
I say it just
Begins to live
— Emily Dickinson
“I cannot achieve complete humility — although complete humiliation is always within reach.” — Dan Goodman
(I resemble that remark!…)
Doing it the hard way is always easier. — Murphy’s Paradox
Easier, perhaps, in the long run; it is always so hard to know which way is the hardest. It’s why Murphy is so successful at what he does; reality seems to cater to him, and let’s him have his way all too often…..SIGH….. y’all take care out there…..
Sometimes I sits and thinks,
I just sits.