Bread of Angels

 A voice from Spain booms from my speaker. We exchange messages about life and relationships. For so many years we, as humans, live in the naivety and ignorance of youth and then, suddenly, time catches up and people around us start to disappear or die. So often, when this happens, we have left the relationship in a bad way, it ends in an open and unfinished silence. However, that is life. We enter with hopes, ambitions, and dreams… then we often just ride a wave and hope for the best. The ones we look at and consider to be the most successful, the most in control, are often the ones with tremendous secrets and unfathomable depths of pain. 

                  I walked to the office, grateful to be able to go and see people and share some discussions. A colleague told me about some of the work he was doing with airlines and payment systems, and it was fascinating. The Korean sisters running the cafeteria in the building told me about the mountains of Korea and about their road trips in America to Colorado. It’s beautiful. And yet, like a dark shadow lurking in the ether, exist those around the country, the world, who want people in the office five days a week and for a minimum of eight hours a day. Everything is an assault in their minds. Someone watching a World Cup match during work hours is essentially cheating or stealing in the minds of those who think they are so much better than everyone else that they want to control everyone through fear and manipulation. 

                  Leaving the office after several hours, I changed into light shorts so that I could walk home in the sweltering heat with a modicum of comfort. The goal was to swim upon arrival, but there was someone at the pool with a leaf blower, blowing leaves around. The moment he departed, the pool company arrived and started to add chemicals to the water. I picked up the Bread of Angels by Patti Smith and settled into some reading. 

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