Otherwise known as a day late and a dollar short; here we are at last. Something has been eating into my time lately, and screwing everything up. I’ll let people guess what it is, but I bet no one will get it. Anyway, on with the show:
The young man was singled out. Or more to the point, the young man singled himself out. She watched as he stood on a literal soapbox (she had no idea where he got it) spouting some odd philosophy of oneness or something. Just like every other college campus.
What wasn’t like every other campus was the reaction. He wasn’t getting ignored; far from it. She watched as he was shoved down into the sidewalk and the soapbox smashed over his head. the crowd dispersed after that, thankfully, still muttering angrily.
The young man got up, clearly dazed, and fell again. She rushed over.
“Hey, you okay?”
He grinned, showing teeth painted red. “I’ll be fine, I think. Though the kick to the ribs stings quite a bit.”
She hadn’t even seen a kick. She helped up to his feet and stumbled; he was heavier than he looked.
“Come on, let’s get you patched up.”
“Good idea. Got to be back at it tomorrow, bright and early.”
Why? He didn’t say, and she didn’t actually ask. She was busy thinking about the quote she learned as a child, that described this weirdo the best:
“Kites rise highest against the wind – not with it.” – Winston Churchill.
As always, this is for Silver Threading at:
And there we go, hopefully to never miss another Wednesday. See you again!