-Lighthearted

[Words to Image]

Mavrone was a bitter, evil man. He was the cause of everything bad in his life, but he refused to ever accept this. It was much more convenient to claim victimhood and project his grievances onto whomever, whatever, and whenever. Mavrone did not believe in anything positive.

Every evening he would sit by the window and stare out at the streetside light and curse it. He wanted the darkness. Complete darkness. Yet, his hatred for the streetlight was too great to ever miss a chance to complain. He would rather suffer the light, just to be able to sit and swear until his mouth hurt. And then gripe about that. His hatred of all things had been ingrained into him from childhood and decades long repetitions solidified it to the very center of his core. His soul was black. And he felt comfortable in this.

"Why is everyone so damn happy when the world is just shit?!" he mumbled. "What's the point?"

Mavrone never thought to take his own life, and free himself of it all, because deep inside, he would miss the negativity. It was the greater part of him.

One night, a little child wandered by his open window. It was late and she was hurrying to get home before trouble came. She heard Mavrone blowing and groaning about the 'horrid' light that taunted him, so she stopped and listened. His bellow pulled from deep inside of his being. The ghost of his anger danced across the room as it sprang from his mouth, the cool night giving it life.

"Why do you hate the light, so much? she asked, sincere in her innocent inquiry.

She startled him but he quickly realized that her presence was a gift. An opportunity to project more hatred on something.

"BECAUSE IT BLINDS ME!!!" he roared.

"But ... it's here to help you see," her rebuttal.

Mavrone wasted no time. He was always ready to fire back.

"THERE IS NOTHING WORTH SEEING! EVERYTHING IS JUST SHIT! AND YOU KNOW IT!"

She thought for a moment and then inched closer to his open window.

"Ahh, are you ... shit?" she asked, uncertain that she should.

Mavrone closed his mouth and remained silent. No one had ever asked him something like this before. It forced him to look at things from an alternate angle. He pulled back from honest thought and returned to the darkness he was comfortable with.

"IF EVERYTHING IS SHIT, THEN I GUESS I AM SHIT! AND YOU ARE, TOO! WE'RE BOTH SHIT!"

He felt good about himself and his reply. The more negative, the better. But the young girl was confused. Her perception of life was not one of someone who had experienced much. It was innocent and black & white. She saw things in the simplest of ways. She inched closer.

"I didn't know that I was shit. But if you say that we are then I guess ... I must be. I trust you to know. Because I'm just a kid. But, I gotta ask ... what am I supposed to do as somebody who is shit? How should I act? I've never been shit before."

Once again, her innocence threw Mavrone a curveball. He did not enjoy this bothersome little girl challenging his anger. He wanted to remain submerged in it.

"YOU SHOULD BE MAD! AND PICK UP A ROCK AND CAST IT AT THAT HORRID LIGHT ... AND BREAK IT!"

The little girl turned to look at it and then back at Mavrone.

"But, I will get into trouble and wouldn't be able to see my way home. And then I would have to stay here with you ... and be shit together. Is that even fun, being shit? I've never been shit before.'

Mavrone had to contimplate the idea of this peppy little girl bombarding him with question after question, if she stays. The thought of it angered him more. She would be someone to direct his insults toward, yes, but for some reason, they all seemed to bounce off her her. Nothing bothered her. He decided, she must go.

"NO! YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO BE SHIT! YOU HAVE TO GO! SO, BE OFF WITH YOURSELF. QUICKLY!"

She was still confused by his words. She inched closer, close enough that she could finally see him for what he was.

"You don't look like shit to me."

Mavrone had never heard a kind word before, and he took this as such. He had a difficult time believing someone could see him and not be alarmed. He had tried for so long to create a personality that would match the image, his image. And yet, here she was seeing him as something he had never seen himself.

"Well, I had better go, Mr. Shit. Before I get into trouble."

She turned to leave but he stopped her before he even realized that he was.

"Wait! Do ... do you think you can come back tomorrow, and we can pretend? Pretend we are both ... shit?"

Hey, waited in silence.

"If you promise that being shit is fun ... yes. I can come back tomorrow. See you then."

The peppy little girl ran down the street, her feet steady by the beams of the streetlights. Mavrone watched as she went, with a little happiness in his heart.

It felt strange to him. But it felt good.❤️

[Never underestimate the power of a kind word. Someone may be on their last leg, dying to hear one]