It was dark, probably about half past 12:00, but sleep was not an option. At times like these, there is only one thing to do: play some music.
I pulled out my phone and scrolled through the thousands of songs on my playlist and then I found it. I sunk back into my pillow and closed my eyes, listening to the pops and crackles of recording technology from a time when my grandpa was a boy living on a farm in Alabama. Electricity buzzed through the atmosphere and I was in a rickety wooden shack in the deep South, maybe on a cotton plantation or maybe in the middle of nowhere. The air was no longer chilly but hot and humid, as a man with so many troubles that he sold his soul to the devil sang about standing alone at a dusty train station, crying for an unrequited love. Continue reading
A man takes a walk down the street. The frost lines the sidewalk, so that when he attempts to sidestep a stray cat that runs by he slips and falls on the icy pavement and lands in a pile of fresh snow. There, embedded in the piles of crystalline water, is a ten dollar bill — fate’s reconciliatory gift for his nasty fall. He pockets the cash and continues on his way. He rounds a corner, where he sees a homeless man, bundled in an assortment of ancient, browned, and smelly garments, stretching his arm outward with a tin can, begging for spare change to sustain his miserable existence. After some hesitation, the man reaches into his pocket and retrieves the twenty dollar bill. Sure, its a lot of money to give to a beggar, he thinks, but it’s good karma and I don’t need it anyways. He reaches out and drops the bill into the tattered tin can. “God bless you!” the beggar says as the man continues on his way.
This was a good deed, right? An act of charity that may have saved the life of someone in need, someone struggling to keep his head above the waters of death, which could ultimately take his life whenever people decide to stop giving without self-interest in mind. Continue reading