an offering

i was frozen in traffic much of the day, many hours waiting at a single stoplight. eventually, a rail thin man of uncertain age and complexion knocked on my window. and i tried to ignore him.

then he knocked again, more insistently. and i tried even harder to ignore him.

then, upon the third knock, i noticed that he wasn’t asking me for money. he was simply asking what had i to offer to the world.

so i rolled down the window, just a hair, and i said, that’s really an excellent question. would you mind repeating it so that i can make sure i am answering correctly?

and he said, let me rephrase the question: what you are most afraid of?

gosh, i said, i’m not really sure how to answer that…. (long pause). i guess i’m afraid of things that scare me.

but as soon as I said that, the light had changed and i had no choice but to move with the flow of traffic, with a sorrowful feeling that he would knock no more.

 

About The Lost Pedestrian

In my wanderings throughout the moments/days/years, I try in earnest to find the mystical within the mundane and the mundane within the mystical, oftentimes confusing one from the other. I have wandered and roamed through many a city, many a town, in a state of wonder and bewilderment, without necessarily going anywhere. I am easily lost, but eventually found. (I am guessing you have just found me). My sincere hope is that you will find Something in this warehouse of thought, memory and false memory, words, numbers, tangents, murmurs, echoes (lots and lots of echoes), voices, dreams, and other paraphernalia.
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