exit

"glorious wealth of love, of life, of rest and warmth, of strength to dream of light in dark"

The words echoed in his head as he trudged down the stairwell, avoiding the laggardly elevator and its threat of close-quarter conversations. It hadn't been long ago that those words had ignited a hopeful smile, but today his whole body seemed furrowed by their puzzle. The phrase bounced in his head as he silently mouthed each word and punctuated his recitation with his steps.



"glor-i-ous-wealth-of-love-of-life"

It would be easier to understand if it wasn't simply incredible, or he so incredulous about the most obvious meaning. He was, however, quite patterned in rejecting the obvious meanings of most things.

"of-rest-and-warmth"

He grabbed the painted iron rail as he turned down the next flight. Sudoko would be an easier labor. Not that he was good at Sudoko, but he knew, at least, that such a puzzle actually had a meaning, a logic that his mind could grasp. What he was best at, was words: shaping, creating, ciphering, deciphering.

"of-strength-to-dream-of-light-in-dark"

That, then was truly the rub. Even with focus, he could not pry apart the incongruities that this string of words presented. Each time, he was brought back to a conclusion so void of logic that his mind bounced it instantly.

He put his hand on the door, and pushed it open, stepped out, and paused. The wind blew through his hair. Light rain from the solitary cloud in the sky splashed on his arms and dripped off his fingers. He closed his eyes, mentally re-reading what had been written on his birthday card.

"Happy Birthday to a man with a glorious wealth of love, of life, of rest and warmth, of strength to dream of light in dark"

The sun warmed as it crept from behind the cloud.

Logic had nothing to do with it.

He was loved.