The following is one report of today’s activities on Planet Earth. We have a general idea of the location as Jericho Road. This is a Fig Newton of the Imagination, and does not purport to be an official 23:59 report from any nation. It’s simply from somewhere in the world.
It is impossible to fail when we imagine the possibilities to solve every problem. Our results may fail every so often, but when we collaborate to improve our methods then we will eliminate failure and deliver best results.
Here is what was downloaded from the Collective Consciousness. We hope you enjoy this story. Here it goes.
The legal worker stumbled around the office, furious and yelling words too sharp even to repeat. These words were so sharp and large in volume as to be off the charts.
This was not the first time the Caregiver had done this to him, yet he loved her still. After all, he had made a promise to both her parents. She was an orphan, and quite adorable in an incredibly exasperating way. She reminded him more of his late Mother than a six year old child. Somehow she always got her way in every legal argument, against his best advice, rejecting his every appeal with such resolve as to cause his sinewy body to collapse with exhaustion after the task was complete. Their relationship was defined by how the Caregiver dominated his mind, even being quite junior to him by at least thirty years.
With the stroke of a pen and a few phone calls, the legal worker obeyed the Caregiver’s command to transfer ownership of the vast portfolio of money, property, and the diamond mines Aunt Brownie had left in her trust to the new parents she adopted, to be administrated entirely to the United Negro College Fund. Of course, the legal worker thought the entire matter was quite insane, but he held himself true to his principles. Attorneys advise and clients decide.
Large and looming in his mind also was his younger brother, who unlike the Caregiver’s Daddy, had returned home from the war alive but not entirely well. He had only stopped abusing his body with drugs and alcohol when he entered Howard University, which was considered quite insane for a white person to do at the time.
The Caregiver knew the truth. She had not been put here on Planet Earth to listen to all this crazy talk about the wealth in diamond mines across the ocean. She had plenty of Diamond Minds here in the diamond shaped city called Washington, DC. She knew the truth of the Diamond Minds from her favorite television show. It was the only television show for which she would sit perfectly still and watch from beginning to end. The show could have been three hours long, or three minutes long. The Caregiver didn’t know or care to measure time, or money. The Caregiver soaked in every bit of this show emanating from the littly Sony UHF/VHF television set with tin foil on its rabbit ear antennae. The Caregiver agreed with its analysis of the Diamond Minds. The United Negro College Fund. Because. The. Mind. Is. A. Terrible. Thing. To. Waste. Here were the Diamond Minds in which she would invest! She was quite sure of herself and would stop at nothing to make this important legal and financial decision.
After the legal worker finished calling, signing, and filing the papers as the Caregiver requested, he had collapsed on the sofa across from his desk. As usual, he felt more spent after an hour with the Caregiver than with a week in front of a Supreme Court Judge. Apparently, the Caregiver had, as she had done before as he slumbered on the couch, emptied all his liquor bottles, rinsed them, and replaced their contents with water. Peering out the picture window behind the desk, he noticed the contents of his cigar box chopped up and daintily placed in the neatly arranged beds of the common flower garden outside the quaint old office building. Tobacco was a natural pesticide, as the Caregiver reminded him many times. He was frustrated, but not furious any more. He felt duty bound, if not a little disturbed to note that he was the only one on Planet Earth that understood the child and could help her. No one else did. She had left him a little note, again a fish drawn with one fell swoop of her little left hand, which reminded him to quit stewing over her piracy of his alcohol and tobacco supply and walk down the street for a luncheon of fish, rice, and vegetables. The legal worker resisted the urge to order a double martini, and went back to the office to nap instead.
Meanwhile, the Caregiver walked in steady pace, happy and calm with her decision. It was time to be with Mommy and Daddy again, but she would have to be careful as not to endanger them. She knew from years of experience how people were far more comfortable with war than love in Washington, DC. She knew she was the outsider in this neighborhood, as Mommy and Daddy were outsiders in other neighborhoods. It was okay. She knew she was black and beautiful on the inside. On the outside, she was weird, white, and moved by night.
It was all good, as the beautiful people inside the prisons said. She heard this when she looked at their true colors dancing from the razor wire atop the electric fence outside the prison. The Caregiver knew the truth and lived by the motto her favorite TV show taught.
This has been an unofficial 23:59 report from Planet Earth. Imagine the possibilities when we connect through compassion and mutual guarantee.
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