I saw the man unloading boxes from his truck. There were these old wooden crates that you just do not see very often, except in the movies. His clothes appeared to be just as out dated as the crates: plaid suit with a white shirt and a bow tie that rivaled his mustache in size. He smiled as I jogged past. After turning up the volume on my iPhone, I took off. It was on my way back that he spoke to me.
“Young lady, do you really believe that you’re too old to follow that dream?
I stopped dead in my tracks and turned to look at the old man.
“Excuse me?”
“That dream that you held in your heart since childhood. Then adult responsibilities, maybe even family and teachers began to crush that dream, so much so that you began to believe it silly and impossible. So instead you began working towards the things that society tells you is more achievable and more valuable. Now you hold a job in a very acceptable profession with a pay that barely covers your necessities and yet you manage to stretch your income to purchase a few material things to keep you satisfied. Things that will allow you to forget how truly unfulfilled you feel until the novelty wears off. Then you’re left financially strapped until you find some other thing on which to splurge. However, deep down a voice screams in your heart for freedom. Begging to be released.”
At this point, I knew this man was either crazy or a psychic.
“I am somewhere between the two. “
“What was that?”
“I am somewhere between crazy and a psychic.”
PhoebeJaneWrites 