Perspectives

Grace had woken up to the sun shining through the blinds and the sound of her roomate Trish humming in the kitchen. She didn’t know why, but she could tell from the moment she opened her eyes that it would be a good day. As always on Saturdays, the first thing she did was water her plants. The big cactus near the head of her bed first, then the aloe, then the second cactus near the window, then the african violets and finally the dieffenbachia her mother had bought her for her birthday. Outside, the sun was bright and its beams made the few tiny snowflakes dancing in the sky sparkle like diamonds. She went in the kitchen to take in the amazing smells coming from the many pans and cauldrons on the stove only to find Trish panicking, because she couldn’t leave her recipe unwatched for too long and they were out of milk. She told her she would gladly go get it and was rewarded with a big smile and a hug. Again, Grace thought to herself that it would be a good day. She put on her coat and left for the corner store. Headphones in, she chose happy music to fit her mood and walked out of her building. As she turned the corner, she felt something brush up against her leg and looked down. Staring right back at her with excitement was a big dog clearly begging for cuddles from any human that would have the luck to cross its path. All smiles, Grace happily complied and shared a few words with the obviously very shy young man holding its leash. After they covered the basics, his dogs name, age, breed and love for strangers, she gave the happy creature one final pat on the head and went back on her way to the corner store.

Andrew looked at the young woman walking away from him and Bo and couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her stunning curls bouncing on her shoulders. She radiated happiness and love of life. He looked down at his dog, who was as happy as always when strangers cuddled him, and part of him wished it would be as easy for him to approach people. With a sigh, he thought about what he would have said to her if his shyness hadn’t taken control. ‘’It was nice talking to you, do you think I could get your number?’’ ‘’You seem really nice and I’d like to get to know you, would you like to meet for a drink?’’ ‘’Do you think I could take you out to dinner sometime?’’ Dozens of scenarios crossed his mind as she disappeared at the end of the street, but he knew deep down he would never carry any of them out. He thought to himself that he would probably never get to see her again and focused his attention back to his dog who had felt him become bothered and was trying to get his attention back. As they turned the next corner to get back to their apartment, they bumped into a tall man in a suit who was talking quickly and loudly on the phone and barely saw them. He looked professional and bothered and late and intimidating and Andrew tried to make himself as small as possible so he wouldn’t notice him or Bo. 

Simon almost yelled at the young man and his dog who stood in his way, but he took one glance at the boy’s intimidated face and figured he was already scared enough. He enjoyed knowing that people feared him. His height, his shoulders, his jawbone, his eyes, his deep voice, his fancy clothes, everything about him screamed that he was better than most. That was how he liked it and he was glad the young man noticed it. He focused back on his assistant, whose voice was pretty much trembling in his ear. She had messed up a very important report the day before and he sure as hell wasn’t going to let her forget it. He reminded her once again that the report that he made her start over again better be on his desk and perfect in three hours and that she better be at their office in thirty minutes with his lunch and coffee order. Once he was sure it was clear to her that she better not mess up again, he hung up and kept walking towards his office, looking down on most people who crossed his path. 

Clara heard her boss hang up and sighed, reminding herself for the billionth time why this soul-draining job was important for her career. She would never get a better shot than this and she knew it, but she still constantly asked herself if it was worth it. She had been in line at the coffee shop for a while now and kept praying to god the barista wouldn’t make her late to her boss’s office. She had written his order down to make sure she would get it perfectly right, but she was so stressed she still kept repeating it in her head. One tuna wrap, spicy. It had to be spicy. And if there wasn’t enough tuna, make them do another one. A ceasar salad on the side with croutons, but not too much. Just enough. A large coffee with two milks, not more, not less. He’d be so angry if he thought there was only one milk in his coffee. When it was finally her turn to order, she saw the barista who’d been there a couple times when she came in and sighed with relief. She was their best employee and more importantly, she knew Clara had to deal with her boss, so his order was always perfect with her. She smiled at her and looked down at the time on her watch. The tension in her shoulders diminished for the first time of the day. She would make it in time to the office.

Jenny thought to herself that the young assistant’s smile was way too sad and tired to make her job worth it, but obviously she didn’t say anything. It wasn’t her place and she had her own job to focus on. She knew taking a barista job too seriously would be ridiculous to some people, but she needed to do things perfectly. She’d always been like that. She was good at her job, and quick, and professional, and clients appreciated her. It was rewarding to know she was one of the best employees. After handing the young assistant her boss’s order - which was perfect, as always - she turned to the next client, a woman who Jenny thought at first sight might be one of the rude customers. With a smile, she asked for her order, and was happily surprised when the woman asked her if they still did the coffee on hold thing. Since the answer was yes, the woman paid for three coffees in advance and left without much of a smile while Jenny went back to work.

Mona had never cared much about other people. She had been taught to put herself first, no matter what, and that was the rule she lived her life by. But last week, she had gotten in a fight with her son, and he had let her know he resented her for that. So she had decided to try and do a couple good actions to make up for it. That’s why she had decided to pay for those three coffees; it made no difference to her, and perhaps it would make someone else happy for a few minutes. As she walked out of the coffee shop, she was thinking of ways to subtly tell her son about the good action she had just done and barely noticed the small man with holes in his clothes who was holding the door for her. 

Gary always held the door for other people. His mother had taught him good manners, and he would always try to make her proud. Being homeless and jobless, he knew it was weird to make manners a priority of his, but they were. He glanced at the woman who he held the door for and jokingly thought she definitely was not the type of person to buy coffees for people like him. He walked into the coffee shop and felt a couple people staring at him, some in a not very subtle way. He tried to hold his head high and asked the barista if there were any coffees on hold. With a smile, she nodded and asked what he liked in his coffee. Black, he liked it black. She gave him a large one with a ‘’Have a nice day, sir’’ and went back to work. Gary turned around, ready to face people’s glances at his worn out clothes and unshaved beard, and walked out with as much pride as he could. He went back to his spot in the park and sat down on his coat to avoid getting wet from the snow. As he started to enjoy the warmth of his coffee, a young boy ran to him and, full of joy, handed him five dollars. Gary smiled at him and thanked him, and shyly nodded at his mother who was standing a few feet away wish the sad comprehensive look Gary had gotten used to seeing in most people’s eyes. He was glad the young boy was so happy to have helped him. 

Austin went back to mom and slid his hand in hers. He had asked her why the man was sitting down in the park when it was cold, and mom explained that some people sadly didn’t have homes. He had wanted to help the man, but he didn’t know how. Mom told him that sometimes, giving a little bit of money to these people could help them get food and warmer clothes. She had handed him a little bit of money to give the man. He had ran to give it to him, and it had made him feel happy when the man had smiled at him. He looked up at mom and thought he was lucky. 

Catherine had watched her son happily help a homeless man and had started to worry for the tenth time already today. She was afraid of everything for her son. She couldn’t help it. He was her only child and she never expected to feel this way. He seemed so fragile, vulnerable, and he was such a sweet kid. She knew she would never be able to protect him from everything. She wanted to, but couldn’t. She was scared that maybe, someday, he’d be homeless too. She was scared that he wouldn’t be happy, that he’d never find love, that he’d get kidnapped, that he’d have accidents, that he’d never feel like he had a purpose in life, that he wouldn’t make friends, that he’d move far away from her. She knew it was irrational. But she was terrified. She looked down at his little face and his smile with missing teeth and decided to try to enjoy the moment. She held his hand a little tighter and happily complied when he told her he wanted to skip instead of walk. On the way out of the park, she let him put her letter for her brother in the mailbox, because she knew he loved doing it.

Karl always thought you could tell a lot about a person by their handwriting. He loved working at the post office and analyzing people’s letters. To him, the people who visibly wrote way too fast and could not care less about being easy to read were thinkers; they were the people whose minds were so full, so quick that they could not take the time the make themselves understandable. The people whose handwriting seemed to be right out of a calligraphy book were the ones who cared about their appearance; they enjoyed looking good and being admired. His least favorite handwritings were the ones in all caps. To him, it felt like the people who wrote this way were trying to take up as much place as possible. Being timid and discreet himself, he’d always feared such people. The letter he held in his hand was intriguing to him. He wasn’t quite sure he could tell a lot about the writer’s personality from the handwriting. The letters were small, close together and slightly messy. He couldn’t tell why, but he had a feeling of anxiety as he stared at the quickly scribbled address and name and he wondered if the person who wrote the letter was only anxious when writing it or all the time. It wasn’t until his boss walked in that he realized he had been staring at it for too long and he went back to work, not before texting his girlfriend about what to do for dinner that night. 

Jessica knew very well she wasn’t aloud to look at her phone during work, but she didn’t really care when it was Karl’s ringtone she heard in her pocket. To be honest, she didn’t really care about her job at all anyway. If she were to be fired, it wasn’t like it was difficult to find another job as a cashier. She looked down at his text and thought about what she’d want to eat for dinner. She didn’t really feel like anything in particular. She texted him back. Chinese? He answered with a smiley face and she smiled too, for the first time since the beginning of her shift. She didn’t like chinese food that much, but she knew he loved it. She put her phone back in her pocket and tried to smile at the customer who had just put a carton of milk down on the counter. Jessica thought she would do anything to have curls like that girl. After a quick interaction, smile and payment, the girl left the store with the bubble of happiness that surrounded her and Jessica turned to the next customer. 

Grace had thought that the cashier looked particularly bored of her job and tired. She had tried to smile at her and make her a little happier, but she could tell it hadn’t really worked. Oh, well. She got out of the store and marveled at the sun still shining and the diamonds still falling from the sky. She felt like it was, somehow, a magical day. As she walked home, she thought Trish would have probably made waffles to thank her for going to get the milk. She smiled at everyone on the way back from her apartment, not caring whatsoever about the people who couldn’t be bothered with smiling back. She started to walk up the stairs to her apartment and heard Trish singing at the same time as the smell of waffles reached her. She smiled again. Yeah, today was a good day.