Life

Someone reached out, having tried and not succeeded; Maisie spent an hour consoling them, talking about all of the possibilities that could top that just ahead. “That’s life,” she said softly. Another friend had loved and lost and needed a shoulder to cry on STAT; Maisie was there, promising a future where others saw them as someone marvelous like she did. “That’s life,” she said softly. Still another was sinking in financial quicksand, desperate for ideas; Maisie was there, with dinner on her, and full of the best advice she’d ever given. “That’s life,” she said softly. Every single one got angry with her for the reminder that life can also change for the good; they would blame her and ignore her and badmouth her before things turned around just as she had believed they could with hope and a bit of effort. They would reach out, not remembering how they had treated her, and want more and better and faster still. “Me Me Me TV is always on,” Maisie whispered to Mugshot as she snuggled against the couch barnacle for dog kisses. “That’s life,” his droll huffs and snortings seemed to say, and he was not wrong.