He held the scripture and felt numb. A sense of clarity was approaching.
Performing the Lord’s work was challenging. Hours under the sun, wearing a heavy suit. A constant stream of rude comments; just for greeting people as they walked by.
What was it all for? This wasn’t paying the bills. There was no health insurance. Doubt was always normal and he had plenty of it.
Something was taking control of him. Maybe it was the devil; maybe it was common sense.
He tore up the scripture, startling his colleagues.
“What’s the fucking point!” he screamed.
The transformation was complete…
“I’m going to do it,” one bellboy told the other. “I can’t work here forever.”
“Your funeral,” his colleague replied. “A diploma is just a paper and guarantees nothing.
“You already have benefits and a pension. You’re giving that all up to become a full-time student.”
“It’s a risk I want to take. I want my life to have meaning.”
“Listen: the whole ‘you can do anything’ message you were fed as a kid was crap. It gave nothing but false hope and higher suicide rates. You need to think reasonably; not fantasy.”
The arrival of guests postponed a retort…
A young musician leaned against the Metro Convention Centre. Clutching his guitar, he wanted to be invisible. Nerves were knotted; heart was beating fast. There was a song to be played, but fear turned him mute.
“This is a terrible mistake,” he thought. “I can’t do this.”
Then he saw a vision of her. The muse that tortured him. The muse that inspired him.
“If you don’t perform, you will never catch my attention,” she warned.
She was always right.
He peeled himself off the wall and took a deep breath. He wasn’t looking for applause or money; just courage…
“What the hell are you doing?!” Jake asked Sophia.
Married for nearly 20 years, his wife approached him with two Italian sausages.
“Bought them from the vendor over there,” she nonchalantly replied.
“We don’t eat that crap,” he grumbled back.
“Look, you wanted to try something different, remember?” she asked.
“Remember when you said our marriage lacked adventure?”
Jake knew his earlier suggestion was a misstep. He tried to defuse the situation.
“Yeah, but I figured we could take a dance class or go skiing,” he explained.
Sophia scoffed and tossed the bratwurst at Jake.
“Just eat your fucking sausage…”