Thanks to impermanence – everything is possible.
~Thich Naht Hahn
The alarm went off at seven. He dropped in a Colombian pod and turned on the machine that could make a miracle happen every day within 40 seconds. Each pod was overpriced already, he hoped inflation wouldn't make its way even into his coffee cup.
Price Gaucher's!
He was considering the joy of fiction as he lit the Marlboro Light cigarette he had just packed fairly tight on his kneecap turning on the morning news through ALEXA.
Soon the crystal clear voice of Corva Coleman pierces through the silent room having been sent over the signal from Grand Valley State University media department roughly 40 miles to his Northeast.
He devours news media. He eases up and does the word puzzle online and plays chess and looks for a recipe for borscht.
Why was he so hyperaware of where everything was located all of a sudden?
Before another long cold day the sun did show itself beautifully for a few minutes as it rose up and brought the room a warm bouquet with 1/4 inch of sweet foam afloat those first few sips of morning coffee.
He heard himself talking to himself… As a song somehow… Last night
As I went to bed I left the world all thus and such… Tell me it's all over, tell me it's better today.
Had we decided to invade? Was there a cease-fire? Were we sending jets?
Where do we really all see this going from here and let's get doing something about that right now before more damage is done – what God damned madness!
He drives around the city in the Honda playing the oldies channel. Been surprised by low numbers and thinks about trying to offer some kind of special discount to get people riding more.
Today was white bread. That's all. I like white bread.
Sometimes he found if he could stare out the window and not be wounded or in pain or managing a physical calamity of some sort or another… If a day could push along without too much resistance and offer the few simple delights of a meal or two… some good reading or taking in a film… that was enough.
He wondered if others were doing the same sort of math… Factoring things in by comparison almost endlessly now with those besieged in Ukraine… He wondered if all of us millions of observers hadn't been turned into much less needy or greedy or frenzied people…
How many others were okay with white bread… Holding onto hopes and remembering how nothing is permanent.
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