On my way to eat scrambled eggs I
saw a sodden purple towel in a parking space. At the diner, my eggs turned into
the towel and I could no longer eat.
Outside by the gazebo, I crouched
down to photograph a strip of bacon lying in the dirt beside a cigarette butt. Someone
came near, picking up litter, and I thought of saying: “Hey. See this strip of
bacon lying in the dirt beside a cigarette butt? You see it? Please—please,
please, please—do not pick up this bacon. Let it stay. Everything will be all right
if you just let it stay. It is within your power to make everything all right.
I believe in you completely.”
The person picking up litter
said, “I’ve never known you to do a bad thing.”
But, “I am to blame for this
bacon and this cigarette butt. I put them here.”
“That isn’t bad.”
But, “I took a shower and toweled
off and left the wet towel in a parking space.”
“That isn’t bad.”
I had lunch with the person picking up litter. Our
eggs were runny. As we ate, the person picking up litter continued to pick up
litter, sweeping crumbs of toast into a plastic bag and gathering used sugar
packets off the floor. I perched awkwardly on my seat and snapped photographs
of everything.
Based on a true story.
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