A timid knock and I am welcomed into their home.
The warmth from hearth surpassed by that of their greeting.
Lonnie pours coffee from a French press as we settle at the kitchen table.
Lonnie off to meet a friend. I sit peering over John’s shoulder at the idyllic pond
A lush green backdrop painted for this moment, for me, an intruder.
Nothing to offer yet welcomed into the inn on a bleak night.
An hour on the clock passed in a single tick. My sophomoric questions answered
with interest and erudition that went beyond what they deserved.
A surreptitious glance at the clock. Time to go.
I reluctantly depart carrying the two signed books tucked in my arms.
I navigate the steps as if descending from Mt. Sinai with two stone tablets.
Too dramatic, a ham actor painfully emoting Hamlet’s soliloquy, act 3 scene 1.
An act of kindness, a gift, for no other reason than to be kind.
Opening an unexpected Christmas present in June.
A cup of coffee. This is how we change the world.