I awoke to shouts and screams outside the window of the third floor loft. My feet had hit the floor before my mind could register the fact that it was still dark out. Tayler was sitting up in bed saying something, probably asking what was going on, but I didn’t hear her as I ran out the door and down the two flights of stairs. Someone was running through the living area, taking a shortcut to get to the kitchen quicker no doubt. I ignored them and ran to the front door leading to the main courtyard of the settlement. Before I reached it, I knew what had happened. I flung the door open and my stomach jumped up into my throat. Across the way, one of the apartment complexes was burning.
Before the End, a fire would have caused some alarm, sure. But the people would have heard the fire alarms go off and evacuated the building as quickly as possible. I’m sure one, maybe two would have been stuck in the inferno, but in short time the fireman would have showed up. Decked out in their fireproof outfits, they would have marched into the building and rescued the poor souls trapped inside. Once done, rubber hoses with pressurized nozzles would have been hooked up to a metal fire hydrant, which would have been connected to the town’s water supply. With a flip of a handle, a blast of fire-quenching water would have shot out and began controlling the raging flames. Of course it was hard work; Brandon told me all about it many times. But now? Oh, now I know why the people of the ancient times pictured Hell as a burning, searing place filled with never ending fire. Ever since the End, we all know the destructive power of the flames.
Dozens of people were running back and forth to the river, carrying buckets, pails, cups, anything they could to bring water to the burning building. Dozens more were running to the blaze from the Commons, knowing it was their duty as members of this community to help in an emergency like this. I scanned the chaos, looking for a familiar face in an event like this. Suddenly a strong hand grabbed my arm and spun me around.
“Let’s go!” Brandon yelled into my face, his voice having no trace of the panic everyone else’s did. He was trained for this. I ran after him into the barn, where two people were busy hauling a long rubber hose out from a plastic storage bin. I went to help them, but Brandon motioned for me to come with him to another bin. Three more people ran in to help the others; public safety people I noticed. The group was most likely the new fire brigade that Brandon appointed. I didn’t have time to see exactly who they were, because as soon as Brandon tore off the lid of the bin he pulled me to, my attention was focused. Apparently the public safety department had been busy lately.
The pump must have weighed over a hundred pounds, but we both had enough adrenaline in us that we only needed to pull one man away from the hose duty to help. When we reached the river’s edge, Brandon instructed us to put the contraption down where the water would cover the bottom filters. Once done, the third man began turning a crank on the side of it. As gears turned, the fire brigade finished stretching the hose out, and attached it to the nozzle on the pump. Another helper began turning a second crank, and soon water began flowing through the pump into the hose. It seemed to take forever, but soon there was enough pressure built up in the hose that the lead fireman opened the throttle and let out a chilling stream of water at the base of the fire. A few people stood staring, but this new attack on the blaze gave people a second wind, and they began hurrying to the river for more water.
It took two hours to quell the fire. After the first, I was able to go around and try to figure out what happened. Brandon had already gathered witnesses, and had gotten statements from those who were in the building when the fire started but weren’t too badly hurt to talk. Most had gotten out, but there were eight people over in the hospital now, being treated for burns and smoke inhalation. Seeing Brandon work like this made me smile; awkward at the moment, but it was funny to think the people almost didn’t want him as the department head of public safety. Too young my ass. I finally was able to talk to him myself. And apparently this fire wasn’t an accident.
The next day, a council meeting was held. Brandon, Sherry, Jay, Jon, Alice, and myself were present, along with the three randomly selected members of the community to act as a public voice. I recognized Drew among them, but the other two were only familiar faces. Amazing how large of population we now have, considering what we started with. The meeting was curt; what happened, and what to do. According to eye witnesses, there was a lone figure seen running from the fire right after it started. The figure ran right into the central building, and right past me, something I realized after hearing the story the first time from Brandon. My own feelings about retribution against this person are definitely going to influence my decisions today.
Earlier this morning, a scouting party returned without the arsonist, but with news. A small camp had been made last night outside of our scouting perimeter, and was found cleaned out by the scouting party. The campers left in haste, which was fortunate, because they left behind valuable evidence. Bandits have almost been eradicated from the area, except for a few clans here and there. The evidence is unmistakable. Tracks from last night lead straight to the camp, which was made by Red Dragons, a vicious bandit clan that had a strong hold north of the community.
Our community has evaded war for almost five years. That is not to say we are not prepared, however. I raise the question; it had been my desire to eliminate the bandits before they grew too strong, but had been outvoted. Which was understandable, but now it might be too late. The Red Dragons are powerful, and we will need help. But getting rid of this group is a necessity, now more than ever. As the topic of war is discussed, I see something behind the eyes of everyone in the group. Revenge. We had been so fortunate, many thought us untouchable. Perhaps it isn’t such a good idea to go to war with arrogance and vengeance leading the way. However it is too late. The fire has already begun.
Showing posts with label the end. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the end. Show all posts
Saturday, August 25, 2012
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Bad Sign
“END OF THE WORLD”
Those words were written on a sign in all capital letters. The sign was a little wooden plank, and the words were carved into it. The sign was about at eye-level, and stood just on the edge of a cliff overlooking a barren wasteland. The ground was dirt and covered in dust as far as the eye could see. Nothing moved, not even the wind, and the air was stale and tasted dry.
“Where are we?”
A middle aged man bit his lip. It was his habit when he was nervous. He found he did it a lot, even when he wasn’t conscious about his anxiety. Everything about his life made him nervous. His nine to five, Monday through Friday office job made him nervous. His plain, ordinary personal life made him nervous. His average looking wife and average kids made him nervous. He was just a nervous man.
“Isn’t it obvious? The sign says the end of the world.”
The little red-headed girl shook her head at the nervous man. It was obvious, at least to her, but she wasn’t sure the nervous man was all that smart. He had no idea why they were all together in the first place. She didn’t either, but at least she could fake it. Plus she wasn’t nervous at all. It took a lot to make her nervous. Usually she was just excited about new opportunities. This was just another adventure for her to learn and grow from, and she loved every bit of it.
“But…this isn’t the end. The land extends further, I can see that. How can we be at the end if we can take another step?”
The nervous man bit down harder on his lip. He really just wanted to go back home. Back to his old, boring, but consistent life. Nothing excited ever happened, but he was content with the monotonous lifestyle he led. He definitely did not like being around these two people at all. The little girl was just too optimistic for his liking, and the old…man…hardly talked at all. But when he did, it just made the man even more nervous.
“I don’t think the sign means we are at a place. I think it means we are at a time.”
The little girl was always practical and logical, though much more happy than the nervous man, and especially more chipper than the old man. She looked up at the sunken dark eyes of the elder companion.
“Wouldn’t you say so, Grandpa?”
She called him Grandpa, even though she had no idea who he truly was.
“Yes.”
The old man was more skeletal than any living person should be, and gave the impression that his body had died long ago, but his mind would not lie down to rest. He scared the nervous man, since the nervous man saw the old man as a future version of himself.
“But how did we end up here? I didn’t think we could travel through time.”
The nervous man wrung his hands together. Another nervous habit; he was very nervous now. He didn’t remember much of anything that happened lately, except what the little girl told him, which he wasn’t sure if she made up or not. This lapse of memory only made him cling to the past more.
Answering the nervous man’s question, a little worm popped out of the dirt at the base of the sign. The worm had no eyes, no ears, no mouth; it was just an ordinary worm. Yet the trio could hear the worm speak clearly.
“I can answer that for you. Are you sure that’s what you want to know?”
The three companions looked down at the worm, and then the little girl spoke. She was the first to speak to new, unusual things like this. These kinds of things scared the nervous man, but the old man remained unnerved. He had seen far too many things in his life to be startled by a talking worm.
“What else would we want to know, if I may ask?”
“Why certainly!” The worm was very polite. “There are two questions you may ask me that I must answer, but I can only answer one. After that, you are on your own.”
“What are the questions?”
The nervous man bunted in, talking loudly to make himself seem more intelligent and understanding than he really was. Nobody fell for it.
“How did we end up here? And where do we go from here? Those are the two questions I must answer. But remember! I can only answer one. So think it over carefully amongst the three of you. I can wait as long as you need.”
The three travelers huddled together to discuss their options. The nervous man wanted badly to know how they got there. He did not care to know what they need to do next; all he cared about was the present, and getting the facts straight about the past.
The little girl desperately wanted to know what to do next. She did not need to know how they got there; they were there, and nothing could change that, but knowing what to do next would be a great help.
The old man said nothing.
They talked about this for days, neither of them budging on what they wanted to do. The worm sat there listening; he had heard these arguments plenty of times before, and would hear them plenty of times more. They always ended the same way. This was no exception.
Finally, the trio had had enough. The nervous man walked away pouting, saying something about youth being wasted on the foolish. The little girl stood there crying, but eventually walked away as well; the tears still streaming down her innocent face. The old man was left alone with the worm.
“Well I’m sorry, but I can’t answer anything unless everyone is present. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”
The old man nodded his head. He had seen this many times, and each time was the same.
“Better luck next time, old chap.”
The worm buried back into the dirt, leaving the old man staring at the sign. He would not walk away. He would stay there, just as he always had, and await the arrival of the new travelers. They never remembered how they got there, but they all got there just the same.
Those words were written on a sign in all capital letters. The sign was a little wooden plank, and the words were carved into it. The sign was about at eye-level, and stood just on the edge of a cliff overlooking a barren wasteland. The ground was dirt and covered in dust as far as the eye could see. Nothing moved, not even the wind, and the air was stale and tasted dry.
“Where are we?”
A middle aged man bit his lip. It was his habit when he was nervous. He found he did it a lot, even when he wasn’t conscious about his anxiety. Everything about his life made him nervous. His nine to five, Monday through Friday office job made him nervous. His plain, ordinary personal life made him nervous. His average looking wife and average kids made him nervous. He was just a nervous man.
“Isn’t it obvious? The sign says the end of the world.”
The little red-headed girl shook her head at the nervous man. It was obvious, at least to her, but she wasn’t sure the nervous man was all that smart. He had no idea why they were all together in the first place. She didn’t either, but at least she could fake it. Plus she wasn’t nervous at all. It took a lot to make her nervous. Usually she was just excited about new opportunities. This was just another adventure for her to learn and grow from, and she loved every bit of it.
“But…this isn’t the end. The land extends further, I can see that. How can we be at the end if we can take another step?”
The nervous man bit down harder on his lip. He really just wanted to go back home. Back to his old, boring, but consistent life. Nothing excited ever happened, but he was content with the monotonous lifestyle he led. He definitely did not like being around these two people at all. The little girl was just too optimistic for his liking, and the old…man…hardly talked at all. But when he did, it just made the man even more nervous.
“I don’t think the sign means we are at a place. I think it means we are at a time.”
The little girl was always practical and logical, though much more happy than the nervous man, and especially more chipper than the old man. She looked up at the sunken dark eyes of the elder companion.
“Wouldn’t you say so, Grandpa?”
She called him Grandpa, even though she had no idea who he truly was.
“Yes.”
The old man was more skeletal than any living person should be, and gave the impression that his body had died long ago, but his mind would not lie down to rest. He scared the nervous man, since the nervous man saw the old man as a future version of himself.
“But how did we end up here? I didn’t think we could travel through time.”
The nervous man wrung his hands together. Another nervous habit; he was very nervous now. He didn’t remember much of anything that happened lately, except what the little girl told him, which he wasn’t sure if she made up or not. This lapse of memory only made him cling to the past more.
Answering the nervous man’s question, a little worm popped out of the dirt at the base of the sign. The worm had no eyes, no ears, no mouth; it was just an ordinary worm. Yet the trio could hear the worm speak clearly.
“I can answer that for you. Are you sure that’s what you want to know?”
The three companions looked down at the worm, and then the little girl spoke. She was the first to speak to new, unusual things like this. These kinds of things scared the nervous man, but the old man remained unnerved. He had seen far too many things in his life to be startled by a talking worm.
“What else would we want to know, if I may ask?”
“Why certainly!” The worm was very polite. “There are two questions you may ask me that I must answer, but I can only answer one. After that, you are on your own.”
“What are the questions?”
The nervous man bunted in, talking loudly to make himself seem more intelligent and understanding than he really was. Nobody fell for it.
“How did we end up here? And where do we go from here? Those are the two questions I must answer. But remember! I can only answer one. So think it over carefully amongst the three of you. I can wait as long as you need.”
The three travelers huddled together to discuss their options. The nervous man wanted badly to know how they got there. He did not care to know what they need to do next; all he cared about was the present, and getting the facts straight about the past.
The little girl desperately wanted to know what to do next. She did not need to know how they got there; they were there, and nothing could change that, but knowing what to do next would be a great help.
The old man said nothing.
They talked about this for days, neither of them budging on what they wanted to do. The worm sat there listening; he had heard these arguments plenty of times before, and would hear them plenty of times more. They always ended the same way. This was no exception.
Finally, the trio had had enough. The nervous man walked away pouting, saying something about youth being wasted on the foolish. The little girl stood there crying, but eventually walked away as well; the tears still streaming down her innocent face. The old man was left alone with the worm.
“Well I’m sorry, but I can’t answer anything unless everyone is present. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”
The old man nodded his head. He had seen this many times, and each time was the same.
“Better luck next time, old chap.”
The worm buried back into the dirt, leaving the old man staring at the sign. He would not walk away. He would stay there, just as he always had, and await the arrival of the new travelers. They never remembered how they got there, but they all got there just the same.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Hero of the Day
Victor was lying down on the grass, looking up at the sky. Curled next to him is his girlfriend, who has tears in her eyes and her arms wrapped around his body. The year is 2012, and it is only five minutes to midnight on New Years Eve. Even though it is late, the sky is lit up with bright lights from every house. Nobody fell asleep early tonight, as there will be enough sleep in the following years. Years ago the scientist predicted the world would end on the 21st of December, 2012. They were wrong. The world will end tonight.
Every attempt to stop the meteor had failed. Nothing could shift its course, and with no hope left, the government issued its last message: “Prepare for the end, it is all over.” That was this afternoon. Within 30 seconds, Victor’s phone was ringing. People began gathering around his apartment building, shouting and screaming his name. “Help us!” they cried. “Save us please!” With a broken heart he looked out from his window, but could do nothing else. At least not anymore; not after what they did to him.
Two years ago, the world looked upon what would be its first, and last, super-powered individual. With his abilities, which the origins are still unknown, he exposed himself to the public in order to help the people during the Second Great Depression. Victor, although at the time he was going by some ridiculous superhero name, could generate and manipulate electrical pulses, both visible and subatomic. He could pull lightning from the sky, or shake the very fabric of time and space. With his unlimited power, the possibilities were endless. Electric cars, free energy, technological advances, all were open to humans now that he had gone public. However, unlimited power comes with a horrible price, for however many people adore you, twice as many fear you.
The governments were skeptical of a being that could destroy a country in a matter of weeks. They spread their skepticism and fear into the media, which in turn passed it onto the very people Victor wanted to help. Religious leaders turned him into the anti-Christ, while government officials blamed him for the strange and destructive weather patterns. No matter how many people he saved, or what technology he helped create, the world he wanted only to save slowly turned against him.
After months of hate being fed into their very hearts and souls, the people of the world cried out for his blood. No more would they stand for this abomination to go around freely using his abilities, for any purpose. The governments demanded an immediate surrender. Not wanting to start a war he feared would destroy the planet, Victor surrendered willingly. At first the officials tried to just hide him away, and continue using his abilities for technological advances. But after only months of this, his fate was leaked to the press, and the public cried out for a greater punishment. They wanted his powers gone.
With mounting pressure from the public, the government had no choice. They devised the means to remove his powers by using the technology he gave them. Not aware of the government’s plans to de-power him, Victor was easily tricked, and betrayed by the very men he had grown to trust. The machine worked perfectly, and Victor was successfully de-powered, with the footage shown world-wide to satisfy the public’s thirst. Victor, who was shocked and still not sure what had happened, was allowed to return home and live out his life as a normal human being. All he wanted was to help. But all they wanted was another person to blame for their mistakes. That was six months ago.
Ten seconds until midnight, and the world looks up to the heavens to watch the ball drop. Victor and his girlfriend had fled to a nearby hilltop, the highest in the area, to watch the end in peace. As she lies there huddled in his arms, he grabs onto her and pulls her tightly against him. Tears begin to stream down their cheeks as they look up towards the sky. He looks at her, and together they whisper their final words. The end of the human race has come, and the only thing capable of stopping it was taken away out of fear and hatred. The people had been granted their savior, and had turned their heads in disgust. They laid the foundations for their very destruction, and built their own tombs with their ignorance and corruption.
Every attempt to stop the meteor had failed. Nothing could shift its course, and with no hope left, the government issued its last message: “Prepare for the end, it is all over.” That was this afternoon. Within 30 seconds, Victor’s phone was ringing. People began gathering around his apartment building, shouting and screaming his name. “Help us!” they cried. “Save us please!” With a broken heart he looked out from his window, but could do nothing else. At least not anymore; not after what they did to him.
Two years ago, the world looked upon what would be its first, and last, super-powered individual. With his abilities, which the origins are still unknown, he exposed himself to the public in order to help the people during the Second Great Depression. Victor, although at the time he was going by some ridiculous superhero name, could generate and manipulate electrical pulses, both visible and subatomic. He could pull lightning from the sky, or shake the very fabric of time and space. With his unlimited power, the possibilities were endless. Electric cars, free energy, technological advances, all were open to humans now that he had gone public. However, unlimited power comes with a horrible price, for however many people adore you, twice as many fear you.
The governments were skeptical of a being that could destroy a country in a matter of weeks. They spread their skepticism and fear into the media, which in turn passed it onto the very people Victor wanted to help. Religious leaders turned him into the anti-Christ, while government officials blamed him for the strange and destructive weather patterns. No matter how many people he saved, or what technology he helped create, the world he wanted only to save slowly turned against him.
After months of hate being fed into their very hearts and souls, the people of the world cried out for his blood. No more would they stand for this abomination to go around freely using his abilities, for any purpose. The governments demanded an immediate surrender. Not wanting to start a war he feared would destroy the planet, Victor surrendered willingly. At first the officials tried to just hide him away, and continue using his abilities for technological advances. But after only months of this, his fate was leaked to the press, and the public cried out for a greater punishment. They wanted his powers gone.
With mounting pressure from the public, the government had no choice. They devised the means to remove his powers by using the technology he gave them. Not aware of the government’s plans to de-power him, Victor was easily tricked, and betrayed by the very men he had grown to trust. The machine worked perfectly, and Victor was successfully de-powered, with the footage shown world-wide to satisfy the public’s thirst. Victor, who was shocked and still not sure what had happened, was allowed to return home and live out his life as a normal human being. All he wanted was to help. But all they wanted was another person to blame for their mistakes. That was six months ago.
Ten seconds until midnight, and the world looks up to the heavens to watch the ball drop. Victor and his girlfriend had fled to a nearby hilltop, the highest in the area, to watch the end in peace. As she lies there huddled in his arms, he grabs onto her and pulls her tightly against him. Tears begin to stream down their cheeks as they look up towards the sky. He looks at her, and together they whisper their final words. The end of the human race has come, and the only thing capable of stopping it was taken away out of fear and hatred. The people had been granted their savior, and had turned their heads in disgust. They laid the foundations for their very destruction, and built their own tombs with their ignorance and corruption.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
The End
“The End is nigh” A homeless man held up a sign with this statement on it. He had a disgusting appearance, his face black with dirt and grease. He had a long, brown beard, which was littered with little fragments of garbage and crumbs. His hair was long and greasy, and in some parts matted down from the grim he slept in. His clothes were tattered and torn, just as dirty as his body was, and his toes popped out of his shoes. The flies that covered his clothes were his only companions, besides the intangible forms that lay heavily on his heart. He lived by a dumpster outside of a gritty little pizza shop in the shadow of the great city. At night he slept, and during the day he slumped against the dumpster holding his sign.
Very few people saw his sign and those that did just passed him by, shaking their heads or mocking him under their breath. He had very little recognition of the meaning of his message, other than the obvious end it signified. He could not even remember the reason he communicated his message, but he had an uncomfortable feeling that he did because that is what he wished for most of all. He cursed the people who walked before him, and denounced his god for causing him this misery.
How this man fell to this level is uncertain, even to his own mind. Perhaps it was his own greed, or maybe the corruption of the company he worked for. Regardless of the reason, this man, who was regarded as successful by his peers, fell into this spiral of despair and poverty, which continues today, even after seven long years. He had lost everything he had, but it was not his house, or his TV, or his money that he longed for most. What this grotesque creature wanted most was what he had taken for granted long ago. He wanted love. He wanted happiness. He wanted to feel the warm water of a shower over his aching body. He wanted a bed to sleep in. He wanted more than just scraps to eat. But even as he thought of this, his thoughts quickly turned from innocent grief to hungry greed. Even at this level, the modern human still contains greed and corruption in his heart. If a man this low in life can not be relieved of the darkness of the human soul, than what hope have we?
Today is just like every other day. The same people pass him, and the same customers enter the pizza shop. The same routines are followed, day in and day out. Which such freedom in their lives, he thought, why do they conform to the monotonous schedule that they do? He, who had nothing, had no choice but repeat his hell every day. He had resolved long ago that, if by some miracle, he would find a way out of this hole; he would lead a life renewed. But promises made with no hope attached to them are as hollow as the empty dumpster which he leaned on.
However, something was different about today. Instead of sitting against the cold metal box, he walked out of his familiar, and stood at the sidewalk’s edge. He held his sign high, still not sure of its meaning. As he looked around at his new surroundings, he made notice to things he could not have ever noticed from the dumpster’s shade. He noticed the clear blue sky. He saw the clouds float on down, undisturbed by the smoke he was so accustomed to seeing. He felt the sun beat down on his dirty skin, and felt it’s warm for the first time in a long time. He looked around, unsure of what he saw. He had only seen a small view of this world for such a long time, but now he saw with his eyes what he had only heard with his ears. The vivid colors of the signs and cars assaulted his eyes, and he heard the laughter of the people. But this laughter was not the same he had heard from his tormenters. This laughter was of joy and happiness. He saw the women smiling, he saw the children giggling. The buzzing of the flies, which had been left with the dumpster and grim, was now replaced with the fluttering of the wings of birds. A myriad of new smells flew to his nose, and delighted the wretched man.
All these new sights and sounds, these new feelings and smells, they reminded him of his past memories. The memories of happiness, of his time with his long lost friends and lovers, overwhelmed his senses. The ecstasy of his pleasant memories brought tears to his eyes. He looked at his sign, his beloved possession that had given him the comfort he needed during the cold nights and rainy days, and for the first time saw clearly the gospel he was preaching. He lowered his sign, and it slowly slipped from his grasp, falling to the ground. No longer was he going the play the doomsday prophet. No longer would he curse his fellow man. He looked towards the heavens, and praised his lord, giving thanks for the joyous memories he still possesses, and the chance for a new life. Hope filled his darkened and empty heart, and he no longer wished for his last day. The end was never here, nor was it ever coming. This was only a test, and a chance to see the world in a new light. The homeless man saw this clearly now, for he saw the world not with just his mind, but with his heart as well. The man stepped out of his familiar darkness, into uncertainty, and found what his heart desired most.
Isn’t about time we did the same?
Very few people saw his sign and those that did just passed him by, shaking their heads or mocking him under their breath. He had very little recognition of the meaning of his message, other than the obvious end it signified. He could not even remember the reason he communicated his message, but he had an uncomfortable feeling that he did because that is what he wished for most of all. He cursed the people who walked before him, and denounced his god for causing him this misery.
How this man fell to this level is uncertain, even to his own mind. Perhaps it was his own greed, or maybe the corruption of the company he worked for. Regardless of the reason, this man, who was regarded as successful by his peers, fell into this spiral of despair and poverty, which continues today, even after seven long years. He had lost everything he had, but it was not his house, or his TV, or his money that he longed for most. What this grotesque creature wanted most was what he had taken for granted long ago. He wanted love. He wanted happiness. He wanted to feel the warm water of a shower over his aching body. He wanted a bed to sleep in. He wanted more than just scraps to eat. But even as he thought of this, his thoughts quickly turned from innocent grief to hungry greed. Even at this level, the modern human still contains greed and corruption in his heart. If a man this low in life can not be relieved of the darkness of the human soul, than what hope have we?
Today is just like every other day. The same people pass him, and the same customers enter the pizza shop. The same routines are followed, day in and day out. Which such freedom in their lives, he thought, why do they conform to the monotonous schedule that they do? He, who had nothing, had no choice but repeat his hell every day. He had resolved long ago that, if by some miracle, he would find a way out of this hole; he would lead a life renewed. But promises made with no hope attached to them are as hollow as the empty dumpster which he leaned on.
However, something was different about today. Instead of sitting against the cold metal box, he walked out of his familiar, and stood at the sidewalk’s edge. He held his sign high, still not sure of its meaning. As he looked around at his new surroundings, he made notice to things he could not have ever noticed from the dumpster’s shade. He noticed the clear blue sky. He saw the clouds float on down, undisturbed by the smoke he was so accustomed to seeing. He felt the sun beat down on his dirty skin, and felt it’s warm for the first time in a long time. He looked around, unsure of what he saw. He had only seen a small view of this world for such a long time, but now he saw with his eyes what he had only heard with his ears. The vivid colors of the signs and cars assaulted his eyes, and he heard the laughter of the people. But this laughter was not the same he had heard from his tormenters. This laughter was of joy and happiness. He saw the women smiling, he saw the children giggling. The buzzing of the flies, which had been left with the dumpster and grim, was now replaced with the fluttering of the wings of birds. A myriad of new smells flew to his nose, and delighted the wretched man.
All these new sights and sounds, these new feelings and smells, they reminded him of his past memories. The memories of happiness, of his time with his long lost friends and lovers, overwhelmed his senses. The ecstasy of his pleasant memories brought tears to his eyes. He looked at his sign, his beloved possession that had given him the comfort he needed during the cold nights and rainy days, and for the first time saw clearly the gospel he was preaching. He lowered his sign, and it slowly slipped from his grasp, falling to the ground. No longer was he going the play the doomsday prophet. No longer would he curse his fellow man. He looked towards the heavens, and praised his lord, giving thanks for the joyous memories he still possesses, and the chance for a new life. Hope filled his darkened and empty heart, and he no longer wished for his last day. The end was never here, nor was it ever coming. This was only a test, and a chance to see the world in a new light. The homeless man saw this clearly now, for he saw the world not with just his mind, but with his heart as well. The man stepped out of his familiar darkness, into uncertainty, and found what his heart desired most.
Isn’t about time we did the same?
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