A quote: “Artistic temperament sometimes seems a battleground, a dark angel of destruction and a bright angel of creativity wrestling.” ~~ Madeleine L’Engle

I’ll start with a story …

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I barely remember ordering coffee, but when the waitress brings it I’m grateful the look in her eyes is understanding, not pity.

Not that pity would have been out of place. Too many shots last night, too much self-pity to be attractive to any man at the bar. Oh, I had been perfectly put together. From the hugged-in-all-the-right-places Alexander McQueen dress, down to Jimmy Choo pumps. I had it all when I walked in.

Except, I had nothing.

Career at defcon 2, my boyfriend left me … and he took the dog.

Dear lord, my life’s an urban country song.

“Change it.”

I look up from my coffee, and spot the lone, old man at the end of the counter, “Excuse me?”

He takes a slow sip from his mug. He turns towards me, “Change your life.”

“Oh, I see. Sure. Just drop everything and … what? Go to some small town and open a bakery? Or is that a florist shop? I mix up my movies.”

I’m laughing, but he’s not, “What you’re doing now, are you happy?”

“I don’t want to be rude …”

“Missy, you do what you want, no nevermind me. Just I’ve always wanted to nudge you instead of just looking over you.”

He set down his mug, pausing next to me on his way to the door to look in my eyes, “Just want you to make yourself happy.”

I watch, stunned, as the door closes behind him but he never appears in the windows. I remember his eyes. The eyes of the anonymous young man who pulled 11-year-old me from a riptide.

The man I always called my Guardian Angel.

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Now, it’s your turn.
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. featured image, cropped, Adobe Stock standard license.