Chapter 13 - The Spring Awakening
-13-
By April, the bitter London chill gave way to the soft, golden promise of spring. Daffodils pushed their bright yellow heads up through the soil in Hyde Park, and the city’s outdoor cafes spilled out onto the cobblestone plazas with wicker chairs and small round tables.
I sat at an outdoor table outside a French bistro in Mayfair, wearing a cream silk blouse and sunglasses, reviewing a draft of our Q1 earnings report over a croissant and a café au lait.
My phone buzzed against the saucer.
I picked it up, expecting a ping from Clara regarding the upcoming Tokyo merger meetings. Instead, the notification was a local news alert from a Chicago-based aggregator app I had never bothered to delete from my phone.
HEADLINE: OAK CREEK MAN ARRESTED FOLLOWING INCIDENT AT LOCAL CONVENIENCE STORE.
Police in Oak Creek, Illinois, arrested thirty-nine-year-old Brent Vance early Tuesday morning after he allegedly attempted to steal several energy drinks and a box of doughnuts from a 24-hour gas station. According to authorities, Vance—who has been transient since losing his family home to foreclosure last year—struggled with officers before being subdued with a taser. He is currently being held at the Cook County Department of Corrections pending a bond hearing.
I stared at the screen for three seconds.
Thirty-nine years old. Sleeping on park benches or in homeless shelters, stealing junk food from a gas station at three in the morning because he couldn't figure out how to write a resume or hold down a job.
No anger rose in my chest. No pity either.
It was simply data. A mathematical equation played out to its logical conclusion. If you remove the host from the parasite, the parasite starves. Nature did not negotiate with laziness, and the judicial system did not issue free passes to grown men who threw tantrums in convenience stores.
I locked my phone screen, set it facedown beside my coffee cup, and picked up my fountain pen to sign off on the Tokyo financials.
May you like
As the nib scratched smoothly across the heavy bond paper, a sparrow landed on the edge of my table, tilting its head to inspect my croissant crumbs with bright, curious eyes. I broke off a small piece of pastry, tossed it onto the cobblestone, and watched the bird snap it up before darting away into the clear blue London sky.
Life moved on. The world kept spinning. And I had never felt lighter.
