Type your search keyword, and press enter

Flight: The Companion of Change

Flight: The Companion of Change

On a dusty run down corner in downtown Texarkana Arkansas, a man with a white suit, fedora and brief case, stands next to Tux’s barber shop speaking to a growing crowd of people.

“There are more ways than I can count to leave. Leaving is the easy part. Arriving, now that is an entirely different matter.  Arriving is the work that comes with change. A profession that can sometimes be dramatic and time consuming. However, do not let me dissuade you from taking the leap to fly to a new place and time. While there is always work to be done when you change locations, there is a magic in the Arriving that cannot be overlooked.”

“Now, I am not talking about the magic in your local magic shop, or the magician that stands on stage and pulls the proverbial rabbit out of his hat. No, no, this magic my friends I tell you is real. It is tough to see. Hard to capture. Clever and elusive. But it is there, and if you follow the signs you will find it. Sometimes it’s a pair of pants, sometimes it’s a golden beetle, or a carpet, or a lamp. Sometimes it’s a book, or a pen, or a story.”

“When we embrace life’s open road we take flight and the winds of change fill our sails with new hopes, new dreams, and as I said before new magic. That’s right; a magic that is so spectacular it can make you famous. It can give you super human strength. I once knew a man who left his life of labor for the open road, and joined a circus. Within days of him leaving he was instantly transformed into the strongest man in the world. He could lift an entire elephant. Saw it with my own eyes.”

A younger man, with brown curly hair and green eyes, steps from the back of the crowd and asks above the din, “So how do I get this magic. I could use a pantry full of food!” The man laughs and the crowd joins him.

“Now, now, hold on there just a second. Remember that magic is not without its consequences. Magic requires things to be in balance. For every feat of amazing magic you do, you must also give something back to the world. If you don’t, the magic will have no choice but to take a small piece of your spirit, your soul, the thing that makes you, you. But, give to the world around you something to make it a better place, and you will be capable of doing fantastic things!”

A women with long curly blonde hair and fair skin, wearing a summer dress and sandals, holds a sun hat in her right hand and a luggage bag in the other. She slowly works her way to the front of the crowd and the salesman turns to her and winks. She stops, sets her bag down and asks him. “So how do you know what to look for? To see the magic, I mean?”

He looks down at her and says, “Well, you can learn all about it by in my book, Flight: The Companion of Change. It can be yours for just $1. All you need to know is right here.” He holds up a hand-sized red morocco bound book. Opening his brief case to reveal a set of the small red bound books. She can see each book has a symbol of a snake swallowing its tail stamped into the cover. He looks deep into her ocean blue eyes, holds the book out to her and says, “So whdha say, would you like to buy one?”

“You’re talking nonsense.” The curly haired man shouted as the crowd started to disperse. She looked up into the salesman’s eyes for a second longer and then looked down at the book. She opened up her bag and pulled out four quarters. As she placed the money in his hand she turned to look down the road toward the train station. California seemed so far away.

“Thank you darling, and who should I make the receipt out too?”

“Marilyn, Marilyn Monroe.”

For My Brother

Death, you thief.

You would pinch vitalities strength?

You would nick wills billows?

You would lift cognitions faculty?

You kleptomaniac.

You would rob memories clarity?

You would filch momentums progress?

Death, you thieving, callous brute!

You would steal my brother from me?

His life is not yours to take, look nigh, the light of his soul still shines.

Your minions: pneumonia, stroke and weakness, shall not linger long in him.

While life in him remains, the knight of my families love fights for him.

You cannot loot hopes flame.

You cannot purloin loves healing balm.

Thieving Death, you shall not prevail!