Aug 31 Swish swish swish
In the big city the twin spirits Romance and Adventure are always abroad seeking worthy wooers. As we roam the streets they slyly peep at us and challenge us in twenty different guises. Without knowing why, we look up suddenly to see in a window a face that seems to belong to our gallery of intimate portraits; in a sleeping thoroughfare we hear a cry of agony and fear coming from an empty and shuttered house; instead of at our familiar curb, a cab-driver deposits us before a strange door, which one, with a smile, opens for us and bids us enter; a slip of paper, written upon, flutters down to our feet from the high lattices of Chance; we exchange glances of instantaneous hate, affection and fear with hurrying strangers in the passing crowds; a sudden douse of rain—and our umbrella may be sheltering the daughter of the Full Moon and first cousin of the Sidereal System; at every corner handkerchiefs drop, fingers beckon, eyes besiege, and the lost, the lonely, the rapturous, the mysterious, the perilous, changing clues of adventure are slipped into our fingers. But few of us are willing to hold and follow them. We are grown stiff with the ramrod of convention down our backs. We pass on; and some day we come, at the end of a very dull life, to reflect that our romance has been a pallid thing of a marriage or two, a satin rosette kept in a safe-deposit drawer, and a lifelong feud with a steam radiator. – O. HENRY, “The Green Door”
Here goes Monday, with a sudden douse of rain dancing carelessly against the cemented parts of our hearts. Smile, curtsy, and carry on in worn out galoshes and unflattering rain coats that swish swish swish as we hurry, head down, toward the day.
There goes Monday; stop and say hello.
This Monday I am thankful for
- the gentlemen that held the door patiently while I was slow moving and otherwise lost in thought.
- the ruby-throated gems that have found refuge on the feeder.
- a second wind for a good idea.
For what are you thankful?