So eager to serve
a soldier of meagre fear—
such a neophyte.
Since he arrived in Magtown 55 years ago, Djon had worked hard to earn the respect he now received. Like many youngsters, he started in the mines. Unlike most, however, he’d had the passion to improve not only his life but also others’. Soon, he’d grown to start his own factory.
Thanks to Djon, the town had railway lines, continuous power supply, and on-demand medical services. Whenever they saw him on the street, people always gave him way.
But he gave way only to her. He’d stand back while his Labrador, wagging, strutted through the house demanding her share of respect.
With rain drops dripping from her hair, flowing down her spine, and becoming one with her feet, she walked away as friends watched her. They knew her well enough to give her privacy when she most needed it.
Vehicles raced around her. Within, so did her mind. Not only had Jason had let her down, but also her story. As her publisher, he should’ve delivered on his promise. It had taken her six years to complete the book, which Jason had ended in months.
She went home, disappointment seeping through her veins. Yet her face remained impassive. With one physical book and thirty-seven ebooks, she’d been writing all her life. This wasn’t her first failure and it wouldn’t be her last—but it hurt all the same.
Taking a deep breath, she showered, and went into the kitchen. Expecting her stood a pot of tea—Akira’s panache.
It’s not about what you say
or how you say it—
words are powerful
they pierce, they shatter
yet words can seal,
try to heal—
chasms or cracks
solace in words
we often find
It’s not what you say
or how you say it
it’s the who.
Proxies promise proximity
but ravage relationships.