He’s old and crumpled as he tries to emote the figure of a sweet old man.
Oh, how cute, I’m here and I will take care of you.
Don’t worry little fella, you will be loved when your time comes.
I wrap my arms around him and feel the frailness of his stature.
He uses a stick when he walks, not a cane, but a stick for a cane makes him feel like an old man.
Days pass and I get a call, my cell phone battery is depleted and the call goes directly into voicemail.
I listen to the message and a voice starts speaking, “ya, this isn’t going to work, I’m not a business, I’m The OLD MAN. I called you 3 hours ago (5:30 am) and haven’t gotten a call back”!
I strain, and become rigid, my pulse quickens and I quickly have to decide, “fight or flight”!
I take a long slow breathe of air into my lungs, I’ve had a good night’s sleep and I have woken up in the comfort of my own home.
My “safe” spot.
I discard both options before me, “fight or flight”, and I look around me.
No one is there but me.
I’m safe, no rocks are being hurled at me, only empty meaningless words.