Monday, November 5, 2018

In the pitch black of the future...

In the pitch black of the future there materialized a pair of eyes — small, childlike eyes void of the slightest hint of judgment. And they didn't look at me so much as past me, focusing on the present state of things and the goings-on all around. Suddenly I was aware I'd failed to do my best, like so many others in our time (yes, there is progress, but that is not to be dwelled upon when there is so much more at stake). And then those eyes, grown familiar, began to glisten and harden and fade into the lightless beyond. And I was left in silence.

Just a dream? My imagination? It doesn't matter. What matters is the messenger. Because the eyes were those of my son. And they were the eyes of every child alive and every child to come. And if I'm to truly realize the potential of my humanity, to let rise the best version of myself, then I must apply the change that occurred in me at the moment those eyes departed. Because it wasn't just disappointment that I saw in them, it was a smothering of innocence.

And to me, that is unforgivable.

A Smothering of Innocence by Bryan Davis

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