All things must pass?

A little story post about going forward

“All things must pass”

She told herself, kicking circumstances and emotions about as tin cans in a parched alley.

Feelings that were stale, yet somehow fresh as weeping dew.

How could that be, that they’d been tossed around so long, yet the edges remained so jagged?

If she got too close, they drew a red that shrieked back at the shock of its own gore, crimson as rooftop geraniums.

What she’d come to notice was, that sometimes, things didn’t pass.

They stuck around.

They loitered as overbearing drunks at chucking out time - obstructing her path, leaning in to tell her just one more story, holding her up just that little bit longer…..

From what? She didn’t know.

Only that she

- More to do

- More to see

- More to give

- More to learn

Then, she saw it.

The last bus.

Almost missed her.

Almost passed her by.

Almost.

Pulled up abruptly.

Pressing as the final stage of labour.

No room for luggage.

Only her.

She observed herself pausing.

Daunted by the journey.

“You getting on?”

Driver said, tapping his nicotine stained fingers, each segment a browning crab pincer in a revealing urgen-sea. His eyes were fixed firmly on the road ahead where streetlights hugged puddles like squirming babies. Each hesitant wobble smoothed to gloss as stretches of golden gum.

Was she?

She saw before her, a clear fork.

She could carry on as she had been - passively - but her time on Earth was also passing.

The choice was……

Wait for things to pass.

Or

Pass them.

And……what if she could do more than ‘pass’?

What if she could ‘surpass’?

“Nice as it’s been chatting, I must be on my way.”

She said.

To anyone who was listening.

But they mostly weren’t.

They were too busy in the alley with their own tin cans. Their own waffling drunkards.

Kicking shit around.

Waiting for ‘things’ to ‘pass’.

So, she boarded the bus.

Didn’t look back.

And passed things.