Today I am Writing: On Power

I didn't mean to end up there, at the cafe, reading.

It started because I needed a walk, to clear my head from the clouded up night, to feel as if my feet could move me somewhere.

I watched my shoes hit the ground, as I took my phone to my ear. I checked in on my dad as the sun made its crisp distance clear.

I covered the railroad tracks with my feet and our words, until I made it to the post office, where I said good-bye and checked my mail.

In my box was a book, newly out and about, written by the guy I don't really know but still think of as friend, based on the few days we spent together, trying to change the world.

I meant to pick up the mail, and then go get myself a coffee and walk myself home, to start my writing day.  So I walked to the cafe, the hardcover book cover soft in my hands. But instead, I got the coffee and asked for some quiche. I sat down at a table, and I began to read.

They say that when a book is great, you cannot stop reading until you get straight to the end.
But I say that when a book is great, there is no such thing as going tooooo. Slow.

I sat inside its pages. I read forward and back. I lingered in every detail, the beauty of its efficiency and the devastation of its words. I allowed my heart to seek to look to move.

That's power.
(That is power, my friend.)