I avoid newspapers and search out eyes. I bumble my way on to hoarded subway seats. My plump bottom overspills it?s share of seat, as I breathe warm and fuzzy greetings in to my startled neighbour?s face. I politely inquire on their book or the weather, whatever might grudge a smile. ?This snow keeps up we will get to ski home. Who needs to buy lift tickets? Just step out the door.? I boldly offer to shake a young man?s hand. ?I bet you go to the same High School as my boy - down this block, is it? Is Mister Grady still the Gym Teacher?? Hiding behind a punk scrawl, I find the insecure boy yearning for a mother?s care. ?I played flute in the school band, too,? I comment to the slim dark boy clutching his scuffed case. We share a secret smile no one else notices. I roam the transit with impunity, a forgettable motherly figure in a sea of humanity.
I have encountered the midnight hiding in the soul of man. That chilling blackness kills, and it nearly swallowed me. I ran, ran, ran from that vicious hatred. Now I fight, fight, fight to take back the darkness.
I mean to bring my small town home.
One person at a time.
I am a Militant Happyist, and I push back the night.