In my neighborhood, and maybe in yours, there is a Little Free Library. I frequently forget to check it. Based on today, that forgetting may be a fairly bad mistake.
It started fairly innocuously.
(Nothing too terribly exciting here at first glance. Pretty standard stuff, even.)
Okay, Marianne Williamson, no thanks, Anna Karenina, nice...but...wait. What's this Woof book? What's this Grrr! thing? Those are books with titles that are right up this reader's alley! Let's check those ou—
(...oh...oh my...)
Times, as we know, are tough. I don't know where you're at, but my state's on fire, my work is completely unlatched, sickness and infection loom silently and invisibly behind everything I think about, my political enemies are in power, my freshly snaked toilet is backing up again, and I'm frankly finding it very difficult to improve my muscle tone. But...when I see something like this at the Little Free Library...it's hard to stay mad, when there's so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I'm seeing it all at once, and it's too much, my heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst...And then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it, and then it flows through me like rain and I can't feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life...You have no idea what I'm talking about, I'm sure. But don't worry...you will someday.
(Okay, sorry about that last joke there.)
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