bright eyes smile.

 "be happy for this moment. because this moment is your life." omar khayyam.

parking is ridiculously easy while snow descends upon the world. an ambulance speeds by, lights flashing, no need for a siren. the city is strangely quiet, peaceful. it’s a numbers game now with names attached, like grampa sam 21,293 or ezra 21,294. either one might’ve been me of course, and was in a way, as the question of a future hangs in the air like a cloud. 

some say there’ll be a micro-chip in the vaccine to track our comings and goings. only, nobody’s tracked my coming or goings in years and i kinda like the idea. of course, if one has a mind to rob a convenience store it could be a terrible inconvenience. so that must be said, or it might just be me, probably is. and has there been sufficient animal testing? i don’t mind waiting in line, although the future hangs in the balance. so even if as many people die each winter of influenza, the logic escapes me, as i hide a toothless grin behind my mask, which is me for sure. 

i doubt that the virus was unleashed by the world’s ruling elite to collapse the economy. as well, i don’t believe it’s fake news, even though my buddy says the ‘cbc’ should be renamed ‘the covid broadcasting corporation.’ and hell no, i don’t believe the u.s. election was stolen. so maybe it is me, almost for sure. the bakery ladies might think so. their bright eyes smile, appreciating our shared existence, albeit briefly. their shelves are full, deliciously aromatic, and i buy a few extra scones, hand a guy outside a couple with change. 

so, yeah, maybe there’s no future. only for sure there’s now. and i can’t help but notice the beauty of it, this moment, which must be you, probably is, almost for sure.