Responsible parenting and leadership are a start. In between reaching for the sky (Toy Story rocks).

Screw the darkness. I prefer the lightness of Pop.

Saturday, November 6, 2010

Do you see me? Do you hear me?

The crazy man walked past us, waving at the sky.

He called out, "Do you see me? Do you hear me?"

The sky didn't respond.

And neither did we. I just pushed Bea along in the stroller. She wasn't paying attention anyway, as she basked in the glow from our Natural Bridges trek where Monarchs fluttered overhead like hopeful waking dreams.

But it was the look he gave me in the split-second he passed us, as if saying, "I'm scared."

I wasn't worried about him, though. He seemed stuck in a perpetual loop of his own unfortunate fall from sanity and grace.

An empathic twinge slowed me, but I didn't stop.

He kept walking towards the sun and we kept heading home.

We crossed the street. Bea pointed to the sky and cried, "Plane!" I looked back at the crazy man and then up at the sky.

A thin white line of jet exhaust creased the otherwise flawless blue. I closed my eyes.

Do you see me? Do you hear me?

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