what is a miracle


The scene: grocery store parking lot. Two days before Thanksgiving. Sixteen hours post-failure to indict Darren Wilson. White woman loading up her groceries. Black man walking in uniform from his place of employment — to his car, perhaps, or maybe, just to move his body during a break. He is beyond athletic looking, with a giant tangle of braids pulled back at the nape, reaching below his waist.

White woman dumps her clementines. “Fuck,” she says.

He passes.

“I should have real problems, right?” she says. Not in apology for the swear word — goodness no — but to acknowledge grievous recent events.

He returns. Gets down on his hands and knees. Looks under the carriage of her car. They conclude in unison that the errant clementine — having rolled to the near exact mid-section of the car — cannot be reached.

That, today, feels like a miracle.

8 thoughts on “what is a miracle

    1. deemallon Post author

      I am reeling even though the decision was utterly predictable. Regarding this post — Its not that I feel a mandate to be positive at this time but I was struck with a sense of something like hope in that parking lot.

  1. Anonymous

    this is such a beautiful story, on many levels;
    I am a huge fan of what I call ‘naked style writing’
    ……and then there is the undercurrent, the multitude of threads that have led to this moment, thanks Dee

  2. Nancy

    We need so many more of these moments. I’m glad you shared yours. (((sigh))) You’re right, it’s not that the decision was unexpected, but still. The even harder part for me is the stories coming out afterwards. There wasn’t a chance for this to go another way. (((Grrr)))


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