Stories are passed from person to person. An ounce of sanity is sought. It doesn't make sense, nothing makes sense. Is this a reflection of them or a reflection of us? Hard to swallow this bitter root.
A lady had a good job for the first time in her life. She was able to finally pay her bills and gain a measure of self-respect. Finally, she was able to dump that old rust bucket at the junkyard and have something that ran reliably. Memos from the top down warned of a new drug testing policy. Random, regular urine tests of everyone. The next week her desk was cleared out. Every knick-knack and photo. An acquaintance who talked to her told us that she quit because she liked smoking pot too much to give it up.
A bright man, husband to a caring wife, father to two loving children, has been seriously overweight since high school. He claims he has a low metabolism, but his weakness is betrayed by the trash can full of vending machine wrappers. On top of this he is a heavy smoker. When asked about his health and his weight he teared up and said it was too much of a hassle to try to change. He is already suffering from high blood pressure, has a weak heart, and lives with severe joint problems in his knees.
A man has been married for over 20 years. Nothing about him or his wife is particular noteworthy. Average Joe and average Jane. If they hadn't found each other, they would both likely still be single. Somehow they just seem to complement each other. I would guess that neither of them would fare particularly well on their own. Yet whenever he heads out to the local dive bar, he hooks up with an old friend. He claims that it's just sex.
A word, a nod, a little breath. These snapshots of life haunt me, hunt me down, catch in my throat, make me pray, ..., strange currencies.