I saved someone's life today.

Not in the heroic, brave-the-smoke-and-flames-and-seize- the-baby-from-the-crib-just-before-the-roof-collapses-on-her kind of saving of life, but it was a life, and it was going to end, and I intervened, and the guy is fine.

I am still amazed.

I was standing on the street corner in Midtown, on the way to the train station for the dreary commute home, waiting for the light to change. The guy next to me was in a hurry. He looked to the right, saw nothing coming, and started to step out into traffic. He must have thought it was a one way street, because he never saw the bus coming from the left. I put out my arm and stopped him. He turned to me with an angry look on his face—maybe he thought I was a mugger—but just then the bus roared by, inches from both of us, and he understood.

He said, "Thanks, man," and disappeared into the crowd.

I didn't even have a chance to say, "You're welcome. No problem."

It was such a little thing that I did. Well, not for him, obviously, at least not in the long run, but for me it took almost no effort. Yet I know there are some people who wouldn't have gotten even that much involved.

How could they not get involved?

I didn't even think about it. It just happened. He was looking past me; then he started to step out into the street. I got involved.

And because of that, he lived.

His family is not in a funeral parlor, picking out a coffin. "Such a promising life, so tragically and prematurely ended," they'd be saying.

Instead, he's off living his life, like nothing ever happened.

I thought about that moment all the way home on the train. Two lives cross paths, and, because of a trivial act, one is saved. How many times does that happen in a day?

I'll never see him again. I wonder what will become of him?

Maybe he'll be the next Einstein.

Or maybe he'll save the next Einstein, with some equally small, but not inconsequential, act.

Either way, what I did might make a difference beyond affecting one life—the life of a stranger. It will affect everyone he comes into contact with, from now on.

And if that's true, then I don't need to grow up to change the world, because I already did.

The pall that has been hanging over me the last few months suddenly lifted on that train ride home. I was overwhelmed with revelations. I've been trying to figure out what to do after college, and I've been going about it the wrong way. I don't have to find something Big to do well; I just have to do the little things well. I don't have to make my parents proud; I just have to satisfy myself. I don't have to do great works.

I'm embarrassed, looking back my recent journal entries, about how self-pitying they sound. Life doesn't seem so dreary any more; the mundane tasks that until just now were depressing me to tears won't bother me again.

Maybe it's because I now realize that these unexciting tasks might lead to great things, and that seemingly inconsequential acts can make a lasting difference in someone's life. I'm suddenly not so worried about figuring out what I want to do with my life.

I've come to a realization, sitting here, writing this.

I saved my own life today.

May 5

I spent the day with Jason, the love of my life! It started out on a sour note when he picked up that two-faced tramp, Lisa. I could tell that he didn’t really want her along on our special day, but he seems to feel some sort of obligation to her. I don’t understand why he insists on spending so much time with her.

But despite Lisa’s presence, we had fun! We started out with a game of tag, he and Lisa in his BMW while I was in Dad’s old pickup. I wasn’t allowed to drive it until after the funeral and investigation, so Jason hadn’t seen it before. The first time I tapped his bumper, he actually slowed down! Then our eyes met in his rearview mirror, and the game was on. I haven’t had so much fun in ages. We chased each other all over town! As always, I did most – OK, all – of the chasing. His little car was faster, but Dad’s truck was made for this game. It almost ended early when Jason pulled up to a stoplight just as it was turning red and made a quick left turn. I was stuck behind a school bus and couldn’t follow him – but the truck saved me. I gunned the engine and drove over the median. The cars in the other lane were impressed. They all started honking and pulled off to the side to let me pass. I even saw a few of them waving their hands, encouraging me to catch up. I wish I had a picture of Jason’s face when I gave him a little love tap! I don’t think Lisa was too happy – but that made the moment all the sweeter.

When we were done, I left Jason and Lisa and came home to trade cars, switching over to the Focus. Since I was spending the day with Jason, and he is my sole focus in life, I thought it was appropriate.

The GPS tracker I installed for Jason last week worked like a charm and I caught up with them at the zoo. I decided it was the perfect place for a game of hide-and-seek. I ran ahead of them and hid in the Reptile House. I waited until Lisa leaned in for a better look at the king cobra, then I jumped out with a shout. It was a miracle that Lisa’s scream didn’t shatter all of the glass in a five block radius! Jason didn’t look at all happy with her behavior, but I didn’t hang around to find out what happened. I had another hiding place to find.

We had so much fun playing hide-and-seek that some of the zoo staff joined in. That made it a little more challenging to find good places to hide, but I loved the looks on their faces when I’d jump out at them. When the local police wanted to play, I decided that it was time to move on. After all, this was supposed to be my day with Jason.

We finished the day with the most romantic dinner you could imagine. Jason dropped Lisa off, then we went to his place. It wasn’t fancy –pizza and beer in front of the TV. But the soft spring breeze carried the sounds and smells from his living room right into the car. With his new TV, I didn’t even need to pull out my binoculars to enjoy the show. It felt so right, just Jason and I, alone at last.

This was a day that I’ll never forget.

Lupine 5, 3414

After three years of study, I thought I had seen everything that humans had to offer. I was wrong. Today I witnessed an event that may forever alter our perception of the human race. I and one of my scientific partners, “Trixie”, were assigned stakeout duty. While the rest of the pack could continue their experiments, Trixie and I were stuck on the sofa monitoring the daily television shows. I had two dog biscuits riding on Teletubbies, but she put her biscuits on As the World Turns. Trixie was specializing in the mind and moods of female humans and jumped at the opportunity to prove the correlation between increased chocolate consumption and questionable viewing selections. I sincerely hoped she was wrong.

The theme to As the World Turns was echoing through the house when a loud scream pierced my sensitive ears. I looked up in time to witness the most extraordinary display of agility that I have ever seen in a human. Whereas a nanosecond ago she had been seated comfortably in her chair, she was now airborne, pink flip-flops flapping like miniature bird wings as she propelled herself to the top of it. She wasn’t standing in the chair. Instead, she was perched on the very back of it, like an oversized Sherpa crouched on the top of a tiny Mt. Everest. She was speaking so quickly that it took the translator chip a moment to catch up.

“…creature! Evil incarnate! Get it! Trixie! Chubbs! Attack!”

I responded to the urgency in her voice. Parasites from Alpha 50632 had already colonized the green spaces of Earth – had they moved their war inside? I looked, but saw none of the evil, fuzzy creatures bouncing by. I looked at Trixie for an explanation.

Maybe the chocolate affects more than their vision circuits, she projected into my mind.

I considered it for a moment. True, there is a lot that we don’t know about human chemistry and anatomy, but chocolate seemed to be a fairly common element on earth. One that female humans made little effort to avoid. No, I had no choice but to conclude that there was a darker, more sinister danger afoot.

The screaming again.

“Over there! Get it! It’s coming this way! Get-it-get-it-get-it-get-it –“

I looked to where she was pointing and saw a small native rodent casually strolling along the baseboard. The tiny creature seemed oblivious to the near-hysteria of the human female. If anything, its confidence seemed to grow in proportion to her fear. It became bolder, venturing to the middle of the room.

“Trixie! Chubbs! Pretend it’s a rabbit! Attack!”

I heard Trixie snort in disgust. We were experts on rabbits, the bane of all civilized worlds, dangerous, conniving creatures intent on world domination. What we saw in front of us was a small earth mammal, and no amount of screaming on her part was going to change that fact.

It was a mouse.

But the female didn’t care. She continued to scream as her precarious perch swayed like a sail in the wind. When it finally tumbled, she clung to it like a life preserver in the open sea.

The mouse skirted her fallen body and disappeared under the sofa.

Trixie cautiously approached the still, now-silent human. One quick lick of the temperature sensor over a facial cheek assured us that she was stunned but still alive. Two more licks returned her to the world of the living.

I am going to recommend that we may achieve better results if we use rodents rather than weapons to subdue the human population.

May 4, 2008

Attendance: 1000

Offering: $100, 000

My hand is still shaking. It is hard to believe that the people of Buck Butte even had that much money, but that isn't what is making my hand shake. It's fear.

We pulled into town and spread the usual 'donations' to grease the wheels. It wasn't the sweetest set up I've seen, but it was good enough. The choir practiced while we set up the tents. People came to watch, stayed to listen a while, then went home figuring to come to The New Evangelism Tent Meeting. We would pull in the rubes just fine.

I run a good show. If they can't figure out why they don't recognize any of the “healings” that happen on stage – well Barnum said there was one born every minute. If HE hadn't meant for his sheep to get fleeced, HE shouldn't have made them so gullible. I am just like a prophet send down from Heaven, only I don't come from heaven and I spell it profit. It's just too easy.

Then tonight had to happen. Look my hand is shaking again. The Good Lord turned water into wine for His partying buddies, but tonight HE's turning my bourbon into water. No matter how many times I fill this glass I can't stop shaking. I can't forget what happened.

I'd wrapped up the sermon. It was the regular first night shtick 'The Lord wants you.' The whole Jesus as Uncle Sam bit. The rubes drink it up. It make them feel special. People who feel special put more in the offering plate.

The healings are next. The plants come up and I lay on hands. They fall and twitch, or whatever. They all have their own routine. Then it's “Praise the Lord, I'm healed” and on to the next one. We'll do a couple of remote healings of folks in the audience. There's always people who get so hysterical that they think the Lord has healed them. I never, ever let a rube on stage. I can't control them.

Somehow tonight this kid got past the ushers. She was dragging herself across the stage toward me. The place went quiet then. I didn't know who this kid was; but they did. I would have to bluff it through. I signaled the ushers to help the kid. The dragging was taking too long.

They brought her to me and I tried to talk to her, but she couldn't talk. Her eyes spoke for her. So I put my hand on her head. “Child...” was all I got out before it hit me.

Lightning flowed through my hand into that girl and dropped me to my knees. A thundering voice spoke in me and through me, while I thought my heart would burst. Instead that little girl got up and walked, danced, did a back flip across the stage. People started throwing money. They didn't wait for the offering baskets. Bills fell like leaves from a tree and all the time that girl danced.

What the rubes didn't hear was the voice speak to me.

“Even you.” HE said, half in sorrow and half laughing at me.

I'm ruined. RUINED. They'll expect it again tomorrow, and I can't do it. Do what ever you want with the money, but don't look for me.

Please, Lord, don't look for me.

Thanks to sickboy22 for the character idea.

This is my final journal entry, and yet when I look back at my accomplishments, I don't even feel like there are enough to fill a page. I got married. Had two kids. Sold my business and made millions. Bought a secluded house with a private lake. Spent my days playing the stock market and driving the kids to school. And fishing. Plenty of fishing on a rowboat in the middle of my lake.

If I've learned one thing in the time we've lived here, it's that a lake is a living thing. It's a massive green organism, and it's old. Secrets lurk in its murky depths. When you spend a lot of time on one, as I have, you can't help but begin to feel like you're connected to it. That's why I enjoy fishing so much — there's a thrill, simultaneously frightening and exhilarating, in knowing that the thrumming reel in your hand is tethered to something hidden in the darkness far beneath you, a cold-blooded thing in a sunless world unseen by human eyes. In that moment, the lake is a part of you, and you are a part of it.

It was a month ago that the lake began to speak to me — it told me I had taken enough, and now I had to give something back. It makes sense, doesn't it? The rotting vegetation feeds the plants, the plants feed the insects, the insects feed the fish, and the fish wind up on my dinner plate. Sooner or later, I suppose it was inevitable that I'd be expected to feed the lake in turn.

I told Lily we should move away, but she wouldn't listen. It's been a long time since she's really heard me, anyway. She spends so much time keeping up with the Joneses that you'd think she'd be happy to move to a mansion in some leafy suburb where everyone could get a good view of the Lexus in the driveway. But no, she said. She likes it here, she said.

I couldn't tell her why I wanted to move, of course. Couldn't tell her that the vast slimy pond in the trees behind the house was asking for a sacrifice — she would say I was crazy, and perhaps she'd be right. I keep asking myself whether I've lost my mind. But then I hear the lake, like the drone of a demented old woman demanding to see a long-dead relative. I hear its ancient voice, and when it tells me what it wants, I know it's not my own subconscious I am hearing but something else, something timeless and inhuman.

It won't let me kill myself — I've tried. It won't let me rest or have any peace until I do what must be done.

After I finish writing these words, I will step over Lily's body and go outside, where my children are playing. I will ask them if they'd like a ride in the boat, and they will say yes, of course yes, Mommy never lets them go out on the boat. I will tell them that Mommy said it's all right, just this one time. And then we will go down to the lake, and it will be finished.

I suppose someone will find this journal after I'm gone. Whether they believe a word of it is another matter. I don't care. I'm not asking for forgiveness. Only God can forgive, and I don't believe in the God of men any longer. There are only the old gods, the insane and vengeful gods who dwell in the dark and watery hollows of the earth, who for millennia have feasted on a banquet of human blood but can never be satisfied.

Dear Diary,

Today, I did something wonderful. And I truly think this is it. I think I’ve found my calling after all this time. It has been so long and I have tried so hard, but today I found myself. And it’s good.

Well, as I have written every day in this journal since I started it, nothing ever happens around here; it is so boring. It just is. All I seem to do is exist in my own little world. I am left alone and it is as though there is nothing for me to do. Maybe it’s just me, but I have been feeling like I am the only person in the whole universe. I wonder if anyone else has ever felt like this? But, of course, they haven’t. No-one knows how I feel. No-one could ever know how I feel.

But today. Today! Today it all changed! Today my life has changed completely, my world, everything. Today I did something that means I shall never be bored ever again! No, really, I mean it! Oh, Diary, if you could have just seen what I did and how wonderful and good it all was, you would have been so proud of me.

And this is just the beginning. I shall do more tomorrow, and the day after and the day after that as well. I am really not sure what I shall be doing, but I shall be doing it all the same. I shall make it up as I go along, and I am sure it would all be good. Today was the first day in a long line of amazing things I am sure will happen in my life. You know, one day it would be so good to have a child, maybe a son, and share all of this with him. It would be fantastic. Think of what I could teach him. A child of my own... But that is far in the future. What matter snow is what I did today.

Oh, Diary, this is the most amazing thing to happen in so long. I didn’t know I had it in me, and yet, there it was. So simple in the end, and I did it so simply, but it happened, and there it was. Today I have shown myself just what I am capable of. I am not worth nothing, I do not mean nothing, I am not nothing. I am me. And what I have done is good.

Oh, this is indeed the start of something wonderful and amazing, I can feel it. It all feels so right, so good.

For today I separated the heavens and the earth! I created! I said, “Let there be light!” and there was light. I separated night from day, light from darkness! Tomorrow I shall create a firmament I think, and call the waters above it Heaven. And then... who knows?

Oh, Diary, I am so excited!

All the best,
GOD
xxxx

What a day!

I had it all planned, and this was the day I was to earn millions, I mean trillions, from a world extortion scheme.

The “particle beam” weapons were in place on my satellites, ready to cause massive tornadoes. The “wave multipliers” where ready on the ocean floor around all major costal cities, and would send devastating Tsunamis their way on my command; the TV networks and Internet were under my control. My plan was simplicity itself: Hit the industrialized nations with major disasters, while running old “Green Acres” re-runs non-stop on TV, and rerouting all traffic on the Internet so nothing ended up where intended - including mail, payments, bills, and stock trades. By the end of the day the planet would be so frazzled they would be lined up with wheel barrels full of money just to make me stop.

Then HE showed up. You know who I am talking about. The guy who thwarts all my plans. He bumbled into my minions, who tied him up and brought him to me. In the old days, I would have been pleased, I would have had dinner with him, explained all my plans with him, then locked him in a room where he would be sure to die while I went about my business: but he never did. He always somehow escaped, and ruined my plans at the last minute. This time would be different. At least so I thought.

I had given my idiot minions strict instructions to blow his head off on capture, and bring me the remains. Well if he was dead, he certainly was the animated kind. I turned to my head minion in charge of the capture detail.

“This man appears to still be alive,” I said, in my best menacing fashion. “Now take your gun and kill him.

Which is when I find out the idiot had no ammo. Apparently too many minions had been shot accidentally recently, and he had given orders to leave it all home. I turned to another head minion and said “Shoot the agent, then when you get done, shoot that idiot.”

He sort of looked at the floor and mumbled something. I told him to cut it out and shoot them, then he said “Well sir, it’s like this sir. I, um, left my ammo in my other orange jumpsuit.”

I was turning several shades of red.

“Well sir, it is a problem with all our jump suits being the same color. Maybe we could color co-ordinate them by day of the week or something.”

I looked around the room, and asked if ANYBODY had a loaded gun. The silence was deafening.

“OK,” I asked, “any knives?”. Nothing. “Forks then, butter knives, plastic cutlery, throw me a bone here people.”

“I can hit him over the head with a chair,” one offered.

“You guys are supposed to know martial arts, right?” I asked.

“Sure boss, I do, want me to let him loose to make it a fair fight?”

I had about had it. “NO YOU IDIOT!” I screamed. “I AM DONE WITH FAIR FIGHTS. KILL HIM.”

He replied his training forbid him using his martial arts against a bound opponent. I would have shot him on the spot if I had ammo.

So I ask you diary, what is a Super Villain to do? I invited my nemesis to dinner.

“Is the shark tank ready?” he asked.

“Sure, whatever,” I said. Hopefully the cook would poison him, she had come close enough to poisoning me. Besides, I had a bunch of plans to tell him about.

I've sat here day after day waiting for something, never quite sure what it is. Like a puzzle you just can't seem to put together because some of the pieces are missing. I always thought life was this great moment waiting to happen, you just had to look for it, but here I sit—life half-over, and I'm still looking.

Am I happy? Yes, so far as I can tell. My husband seems to love me. My mother and I get along most of the time. Even my son has been keeping in touch with me. On the other hand, my three beautiful granddaughters have moved away, leaving me sad and heartbroken. They do seem to love their new lives though, and that does make me happy.

So today's my day—the day I try to understand the rest of my life. Every why will be answered for me—at least I hope so.

I think opening your mind and taking a closer look at what's happening around you and all over the world, leaves endless pain to those who still feel real love and compassion for all innocents.

My days seem never-ending, leaving me feeling hopeless. The question is why. Why would anyone want to have no direction in life until they fade with death? Not wanting to live life with full force and a clear mind—ready to pounce on any new experience. Why?

Freedom is the answer. We gave up on freedom in exchange for money and possessions and nothing more. What sell-outs we really are. And so the age-old question: does money make people happy? No! Too many sad and lonely people with plenty of money tell me different. So then, why all the deception? Since when is it a bad thing to know the truth about your life? I asked God to help with answers more times then I can remember, and God revealed it to me in the strangest way, but I think I got it.

Lately, I’ve been watching the news a lot and reading things and found nothing but heartache and desperation in every face I've seen. But today, I happened across some information that opened my mind’s eye. People of the world have been fooled by world leaders from the smallest to the largest of nations. The golden cow that’s worshipped is the machine that fuels us, disguised as progress. This is a sickness society can and should live without lest we follow this machine like sheep into the lion’s den.

I couldn't possibly be the only free thinking person alive. Where are the rest of you? Show your faces and be known for all to see. Are we cowards hiding from our own shadows? Or could it be the fact that one of the first lessons we learn as children is to stay within the lines and all will be well.

Boundaries we need. Chains made from links of lies, we don't.

Don't get me wrong; I'm not one of those Jesus freaks. But, of all the things I could have been, Jesus freak would top my ‘should-have-been’ list. There are many people in this world that blame God for the things that have gone wrong in their lives. Deep down, people know why they're not happy in life. What's missing but the truth? Instead they lie to themselves and blame God. It seems as though it’s become easier to leave things in God's hands than to take personal responsibility for your lot in life. Personal responsibility has gone out of fashion.

Just my feelings for today.

Dear Diary

Well today was eventful. For a start I couldn't find my socks this morning. I hate it when I can't find my socks. I could find a couple of odds, I'm sure there was another pair just like them somewhere but could I lay my hands on them? Well in the end I just had to wear the odd ones.

I walked into work and my boss asked if he could have a word. A little apprehensive, I entered his office. He never speaks to me. He's much too important. Anyway he had a proposition for me. Now this is where it gets interesting. He wanted me to go an a blind date with his nephew. He was even willing to give me a pay rise. Apparently it was very important for his nephew to meet a nice girl whilst he was visiting.

Now you might think "yeah, go for it". I mean why not it's only one date. But then I got to thinking, why is this man so desperate that his uncle is willing to pay someone to go on a date with him? And more to the point, what kind of girl would I be if I accepted payment to go on a date?

Yeah you guessed it, I smiled politely and said...

“Sure what time will he pick me up?”

I was surprised to find out that the date was to happen at lunchtime. LUNCHTIME!! I wouldn't even have time to get home and put on my face. Oh well, at least I had a shower this morning.

As I walked into the restaurant my boss had sent me to, I saw a man standing at reception. He was very young but was wearing a suit and looked, well, groomed shall we say. He turned to me and smiled.

“Valerie?” he asked

We hit it off right away. He told me that his mother had been on the phone to his uncle as she was getting remarried and he was threatening to go to the wedding without a date which apparently just isn't acceptable. We laughed and joked and he explained the reason he wasn't taking a date. He didn't think his mother would approve of Jason, his boyfriend.

As the end of my lunch hour loomed I was loathed to leave him. I had never met a man who made me feel so good without me having any romantic feelings for him. As we left the restaurant and said goodbye I watched him walk in the opposite direction. As the bottom of his trousers lifted I spotted his socks. I gave a silent giggle as they were a perfect match to mine.

I had my hopes set on a restful evening, but it was not to be. I spent hours preparing fried chicken, not the battered kind but a skinless, golden brown, southern-fried recipe. My clothes and hair, covered in spattered grease, smelled like the back room at KFC on a Saturday night. Angelica and her friend Devera were very specific about how the chicken should be prepared, and their appetites were insatiable. I’m certain they were not up to any particular mischief, but whatever it was they were doing it completely nude and oblivious to my presence, at least until they required more chicken. They continuously beckoned to me for more, devouring the greasy thighs, breasts, and legs of the fried chicken with no regard for the effect their own complimentary parts might have on me. If the point of their nakedness was intimidation they did not seem to be doing it with animosity, and both were quite attractive. My feelings were mixed, since Angelica was often presented as my sister, and tonight the two ladies were hinting at a possible lesbian relationship.

About the time I was delivering them their third enormous fried-chicken platter, Robert, Devera’s sometimes-boyfriend arrived with his contribution to the culinary delights, a massive prime rib of beef he handed to me without a word. Robert was a “businessman”, his word for the thug-type activities he participated in as a member of the local bunch of hoods running scams on the legitimate businessmen in the area. The beef had no doubt been part of a payment for some dubious activity he just completed. There was no need for instructions; he knew me as well as I knew him and could communicate more effectively with a glance than with an entire paragraph of dialog. I had put Robert in a few pretty desperate situations and even caused him fatal injuries once or twice, so we had what he called an “understanding”. He joined the two girls who were lounging on pillows on the floor, taking a prone position with his head in Devera’s lap and munching on a chicken leg.

None of the three meant me any real harm, but they made it clear that my only role this evening was to keep cooking and serving the chicken, and whatever spare time I could find should be used for preparation of the prime rib. It was enough that they were in control. They knew that when morning arrived I would again take charge and command them to perform for my reader’s amusement. They would once again be subject to my whims, making them good or evil, male or female, dim-witted or Mensa material as needed. But for now, in my dreams, they controlled the electrical impulses of my brain, compelling me to endlessly fry chicken or carry out any other mundane or ridiculous tasks they chose. Their only opportunity to have any power over their own destinies is while I am helpless with sleep, and each night they take full advantage of the situation. I hoped that some night they might provide me with inspiration to further develop their characters, but so far they seem content to just be the ones in charge for a change.

Dear Diary: Today I finished the chapter where Angelica, Devera, and Robert got together for a dinner meeting. I changed the location from a five-star gourmet restaurant to Robert’s grimy kitchen where they enjoyed some leftover fried chicken. Not the batter-dipped kind, the skinless, southern-fried kind.