A young man sat next to me on a bench. He was talking with someone who was probably his girlfriend. I squeezed my book and slid closer to the edge of the bench, thinking they might need some more room.

I was accosted -- "I'm sorry, do you have a problem with me sitting here?" The world went dark around me. I gave a polite response and it disgusted me. This must be a test! Some trial of my kindness. I looked for Jesus, but he was nowhere to be found. No hair. No beard. No sandals. Oh, but he must be watching!

I must prove my love for my beloved. So I removed myself from this seat to give them the full bench. I turned toward the couple and bowed, like a cat before his scratching post, thanking them for their service to my Jehovah and I. They gave no reply, therefore I must continue to bow.

My world was still black. At once, I realized that my eyes must have shut themselves in order to allow my searching for Jesus on the inside of their lids. But no such vision graced that thin flap of skin. A begging for my sight began and all life called out from each pore in my breathing body. We cried out in a chorus of question and were granted our answer.

My eyes showed me something important. I was facing the wall. Rotating torso lead the charge to face brother and sister. My need to vocalize my gratefulness overwhelmed me and I began to shout my love! But they had left.

A snapped twig dangling overhead, waiting to be caressed by the antlers of a deer and carried off to somewhere else -- I was still bowing.

I posturized myself.

I was a slice of bread at a seagull beach party. All ships stilled their rudders. Their eyes harpooned me. All my understanding bled from that wound and circled the circled the water around me. The blood symbol had been set and the translator noses of the beasts would consume my message and swallow me whole.