Breathe

The afternoon commute started with a light drizzle as the satellite news-brief announced the White House had capitulated over Iran nuclear deal, the ramification of which would spawn a nuclear arms race in the region, instead of paving the road to peace…

I switched the station, only to hear of a video of a Planned Parenthood Director talking about crushing fetuses in specific parts of the their little bodies to spare valuable organs available for sale, all the while as she sipped blood red wine and ate salad at a restaurant.

While disturbed by the story, I received alerts on my phone from DoS and ISAF regarding a massive bomb explosion in Kabul, hitting an international convoy and killing many civilians. My mind raced to our team in-country…

And as if that were not enough, the Prince had just left me a voicemail expressing his disappointment and deep sadness over failure of mission in the region.  He had hoped that a momentous  shift had come at long last, but alas…

I pulled my car over to the shoulder and let the drizzle blur the massive river of taillights stagnant on the main artery as the city exhaled its tired currency for the day.

“Breathe Alexander, just breathe… You have a promise to keep,” I reminded myself.

I looked at the stream of souls encapsulated in their bubbles of technology rolling unconsciously along I-495 South in myriad states through their matrix of being.

Tomorrow was another day, jam-packed with back-to-back meetings around the city with Government and security firms, contractors and developers, all fabricating buildings and nations, churning the engines of our world, and concocting our built reality…

So I breathed, and joined the stream of taillights.

I had barely opened their front door as he approached me with the warm smile of a child, “I knew it was you!”

I smiled back and gave him and his brother the Pokémon cards in my hand. No sooner had I delivered my promise that from my left flank the four-year-old wolf-girl jumped in my arms and peered into my eyes with her grey wolf eyes. Before I could glance away, the little wolf-girl had brought a bottle of fingernail color and was painting my nails blue, one finger at a time, with each finger, making the world go away…

As I listened to their mum, the blue elf fairy, while she crafted an intoxicating dish of raw amanita ceviche infused with fresh cilantro and sweet potato still perfumed with earth, I realized…

-Iliad

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