May 11th 2015

April walks around downtown in, keeping the faith that amongst the white, black and grey she will find her red.

Subtle hints of advertisement and propaganda flood her mind and vision, while she occasionally looks down to the sidewalk.  She keeps track of her tracks like several clocks above her on buildings keep the time, telling her when the sun will go down and the luminescence of the city will flood this place like the pink floods the plains on the other side of the world.  Though this place isn’t as far to April in her daydreams.

She looks up and down, thinking, am I farther away from the third block than I am the second from the first in relation to the lines that separate the pieces of concrete that constitute the paths of a city block? 

To her right are stores that sell chocolate and candies and bakery food, though they are empty.  They are vacuums of time and space, hollow of transactions and people and light, and energy and action and complete in inaction, and she feels a sense of personification in the sense of loneliness of the store.

As opposed to the drug store across the street where consumers consume the need to fill their morning voids with coffee and clarity, who are in some way needing something, something like office supplies, or hairspray, or the need to see other people who see other people who see other people that need office supplies or hairspray so that they will fulfill their daily quota of normalcy.

April sees a homeless person sitting in an arched doorway, with a patterned sleeping bag to his left and an aqua plastic cup to his right.  She sees in his eyes a longing for the stretching of an arm, not just for the release of spare change, but so that there may be the exchange of words.  The space between God and Adam’s fingers come to mind, because April had listened in recently on a conversation in religion class saying that “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” 

And then she thinks that there are others out there that are not only poor in their economic status, but in what they were denied in life.  And she looked down at her shoes and realizes that she wouldn’t give them up to the homeless person because then she would look silly and be poor in confidence, and then the scale of the poverty of earth would just remain the same, the one that she imagined that sat on God’s bedside, the thing that keeps him up at night.

And she thinks to herself what would be the one most fulfilling thing that she could do, right now, to balance that scale, and she realizes that she doesn’t know, because only God is all-knowing and knows this, but there was some little part in her that knows what was best for those that she loves, and those that love her know what is best for her.

And this is why April thinks that there is a little bit of God of all of us, that this only made sense, Because, otherwise, where would the goodness of God go?  she thinks, looking down to the ground, going from one block of concrete, to the second, to the third.  And she turns back and runs to the homeless man and places some change in his cup and he tells her to have a good day, and the action is returned, and April feels her world balance just a little bit more.