Right. Left. Left. Diagonal Right.

The aroma of coffee engulfs me with every opening and closing of the fingerprint streaked glass door. The surrounding warmth escapes me and leaves behind a barren hole in space for the stinging cold to fill. Slowly, the warmth radiating from the ducts overhead eradicates the chill from my bones. Repeat. Another soul exits. Repeat. Another soul enters. This cycle slows my frigid fingers that once danced so freely over the keys. Life seeps back into my joints just as the next soul departs for a world that shows no mercy to the wanderer. If his coat lacks insulation, the world will not make his surroundings warmer. There is no mercy for the faceless man who sets off into the unknown night with nothing but a thin piece of cloth clinging to the heat leaving his shivering, frail body.


My thoughts cannot help but attach themselves to his shadow. The presence of his shadow completely depends on the flickering, dim lights he passes along his aimless path. The relentless rain drops from the dim sky above onto the man’s mud brown hair. His sorrowful eyes look up to the stars for answers. He determines his steps by the position of every star above. Left. Right. Diagonal left. Ninety degrees to the right. To the passerby , he appears to be a crazed, intoxicated man. However, to him, each step is fueled by trust and has purpose. He has completely surrendered his own will to the superior stars above. They have seen centuries pass. They have watched great men be born. They have witnessed the rise and collapse of entire dynasties. Their wisdom far surpasses his mere twenty and some years.

My thoughts retrace their steps back through the cool glass doors. The heat escapes me once again as my thoughts of this man warm their way up my spine. I am in disbelief of his trust in something so much greater than himself. I sit there and cease the rhythmic movement of my fingers. My eyes look to the stars through the reflection stricken glass. I see beyond the reflections. I hear beyond the grinding coffee. I feel an overwhelming sense of surrender. What peace it is to fully surrender. I pack my belongings and stare at my unblemished boots atop the exit mat. My time has come to brave the frigid night. The cool metal handle rests in my hand as my heart struggles to pump warm blood to my fingers. The door creaks inch by inch until I am finally standing in the darkness of night. My only guide is the stars scattered in the dark blanket of night. I step forward and so begins my crazed, intoxicated dance. Right. Left. Left. Diagonal Right.

December 30, 2015

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