Me - Him | Gather

My black motorbike leaned on its side stand; the cooling engine was ticking in the brisk autumn air. I leaned back in the café's chair, my black leather jacket warming me; and the mug of hot, strong coffee sending my heart ticking. As I sipped, he drifted into my mind; the cares and sorrows of the world were etched on his face, and hopelessness was in his eyes. He had no motorbike, leather jacket or mug of coffee. He was black, heart barely ticking and leaning back on the hot African dirt. I, on the chair, met him; but I was unseen. He was all of five years old – the silly little bugger was dying on TV.

199 words for Easter

Comments: 13

David Butler Apr 13, 2006, 1:25pm EDT

Good work and good reading. Thanks David Lars

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HGM Moya Goatley Apr 13, 2006, 6:02pm EDT

Well said. For those with compassion fatigue this brief piece should be an eye opener. Moya

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Magi the magical poet is riding the wind again Apr 13, 2006, 7:14pm EDT

Thank you both,

Magi

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Sandy (Site Psychic™) Knauer Apr 13, 2006, 10:14pm EDT

You throw quite a punch for such a small woman ;-(
This one almost needs a warning label. Very powerful.

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AiLing K. Apr 13, 2006, 10:17pm EDT

Wow, very 'strong' article you wrote here. Thank you.

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Magi the magical poet is riding the wind again Apr 13, 2006, 10:48pm EDT

Thank you all - the image of a child dying on TV hit me more powerfully than I can put in words.

Magi

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Ron Hall Apr 13, 2006, 10:49pm EDT

I relate to this. When I was in high school I competed in speech meets. My speech was about how we spoil our pets while people starve. Only the rare judge scored my speech high, and pretty much everyone in the room thought I was mean to say such things about cuddly dogs and cats. But I got to speak my angst ridden 17 year old mind.

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