I try to arm the world with kindness.
I bid scowlers and frowners a good day. Wish them peace on the bus, on the streets, at the movies. My wife, Penelope, said kindness was the most joyful gift.
Sometimes, scowls ease. We exchange words about adventures, jobs. Lost family.
Sometimes they tell me to fuck myself.
It feels like bullets striking left and right, while you’re trying to dart pain. Sometimes I want to slide into ease and assholeitude.
I imagine Penelope, disappointed, a ghostly being. Imagine scowlers and frowners carrying grievances. I envision their weight and shape.
I reload kindness.