There are three types of people in the world: (1) knowers (2) not-knowers and (3) knowers who can’t stand the not-knowing. Lucy was the third type. In fact, her discomfort was such that any sort of not-knowing tended to prevail over all else, preventing her from achieving any measure of satisfaction. Ever since she was a little girl, she was blessed (or cursed; she was never quite sure) with the knowing. Everyone she’d ever met bore an inscription in careful black lettering—presumably from a cosmic pen of some sort—indicating precisely the role they would play in her life. Confidant, Friend, Defender, Enemy, etc. The mailman’s label read Acquaintance, and the elderly man across the street bore a label that read Stranger. This was the way it had always been. Read more in Joyland magazine.
I believe that: (1) language is the most powerful tool we have (2) that bravery is the most admirable quality in a person and (3) that the best is yet to come. View all posts by thingsconsidered