conception

The old man in the suit stood on the sidewalk, a stack of little green bibles next to him. In his outstretched arm he held the little holy book. "F**k" I whispered under my breath. "Not these people." I get closer and closer, couldn't stop now. Everyone else ignored him... but I couldn't. I never can. He had white hair, and a smile on his face. "Good morning," he said. "Good morning," I said back. The man looked at me expectedly. "Okay," I tell him, "I'll take one." He hands it to me, and I smile back at him. I gain as much distance as I can before I look back, checking how many people saw me grab a bible.

And hence I was saved. At least the man hoped so. (But who knows? he thinks, I can only hope.) The man probably reported back that night that he had given out 20 or so bibles. Oddly, I'm now a part of that man's life.

Today I stood outside Reid for awhile. I tried to call someone on my cell phone, but he didn't pick up. Because of that I left late and ran into someone I hadn't seen since last semester.

One day I found a note on the ground. On it was a name. I returned it the person later that day. That note fucked up my life for a while.

I wonder if Moses was chosen, or did he stumble into God by accident?