Moxie Monday: Let the Light in
Kick start your week with a lil' moxie!
[East River Sunset, NYC]
Fiction Friday: [Rebranding]
They arrived without fanfare. Just appeared out of the blue one day. Silver orbs hovering high in the sky above New York City, silent and reflective. No matter the weather or time of day, they were always there. And as the months passed, they began to pop up all over the world.
Once everyone realized it wasn’t some elaborate publicity stunt, panic set in. Speculation on the orbs’ intentions dominated every conversation. Trusted news networks booked Ancient Alien Conspiracy Theorists as their pundits and the theorists were more than happy to leave behind their novelty shows on the Discovery Channel. The anticipation of lasers shooting toward the earth, and destroying us all, cast a shadow over every moment of every day.
But time passed and nothing happened. The orbs just continued to hover silently above. It wasn’t long before the fear turned into anger. Anger born from the idea that we were being judged. It was as if there was nothing more jarring than knowing we were being fully seen, warts and all.
So, wars were paused and the poor were fed. Fairer laws were passed and no one was left to suffer sleepless nights on the street. There was never a mandate, it just happened. We were human after all, so it wasn’t surprising when the world as a whole adopted a “we’ll show them” attitude.
Kindness spread and gathered steam as easily as hate had for too long. Growing with every act performed in its name, kindness eventually became second nature. And not once did anyone shoot an “I told you so” up to the sky. If they had, they would have noticed that the orbs were gone.
Moxie Monday: Every Time
Kick start your week with a lil' moxie!
Fiction Friday: [Higher Ground]
They say that New York City isn’t a very friendly place. I’ll tell you what, if I weren’t me I would have to disagree. I see the way they treat each other and man, what I wouldn’t give for just a fraction of that kindness.
Unfortunately, that’s not my lot in life.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t bothered by the way they look at me. Like I’m a piece of trash or as if my very existence inconveniences them somehow. Even worse are the ones that talk about me like I’m not even there.
Gross.
Dirty.
Vile.
They say.
I’ve lost count of the number of times a child’s been yanked away before they got too close. How many times I’ve been shooed away like I’m not even worthy of human companionship.
And as if on cue, a loud talking, burly man holding a cart dog almost steps on me.
Perfect.
“Get away from me you flying rat! Man, you’re so disgusting!”
His boot has me locked in its cross hairs and my instincts kick in. Spreading my wings I rise before he can connect. I safely perch myself on one of the fancy light posts dotted along Central Park South and look down at the man who is now shoving his middle finger my way. I can’t return the gesture, obviously, so I’m just left feeling frustrated and highly offended.
Satisfied that he’s debased me enough, his attention returns to his friends. Look, I know by now that his lashing out is more about impressing them and less about me, but it doesn’t make it sting any less.
I look out over Central Park, hoping its beauty will bring me comfort. I remind myself that I am better than the insensitive lunk below. I remind myself that I am doing the best with the life I’ve been given. I remind myself that I took the high ground, morally and literally.
But, the more I hear his voice I am reminded of how much he hurt my feelings. A black cloud mixed with anger and sadness wells up in me and before I realize it I have flitted along the post and am directly above him. Then, without hesitation, I release my breakfast.
Enraged, he starts hurling expletives at me, but they fade in the wind as I fly away hoping to lose myself in the park, wishing I felt a little more satisfied.
