A Great Run and a Fascinating Ending.
Mission accomplished.
Not much chance, completely cut loose from purpose, he was a young man riding a bus through North Carolina on the way to somewhere and it began to snow and the bus stopped at a little café in the hills and the passengers entered. He sat at the counter with the others, he ordered and the food arrived. The meal was particularly good and the coffee. The waitress was unlike the women he had known. She was unaffected, there was a natural humour which came from her. The fry cook said crazy things. The dishwasher in back, laughed, a good clean pleasant laugh. The young man watched the snow through the windows. He wanted to stay in that café forever. The curious feeling swam through him that everything was beautiful there, that it would always stay beautiful there. Then the bus driver told the passengers that it was time to board. The young man thought, I'll just stay here, I'll just stay here. But then he rose and followed the others onto the bus. He found his seat and looked at the café through the bus window. Then the bus moved off, down a curve, downward, out of the hills. The young man looked straight forward. He heard the other passengers speaking of other things, or they were reading or trying to sleep. They had not noticed the magic. The young man put his head to one side, closed his eyes, pretended to sleep. There was nothing else to do. Just to listen to the sound of the engine, the sound of the tires in the snow.
People love simple and preposterous lies.
They much prefer them to the truth. Truth is elusive. Difficult to discover. Infinitely nuanced. Hard to hold onto.
Each tiny bit of truth comes at a high price: A love lost. A marriage ruined. A business bankrupt. Money wasted. And a sorry soul burning on some ash pit in Hell. Nor does truth make you feel good. Like a magnifying mirror, it shows blemishes. You squirm in your seat when you see it. Often, you want to turn off the lights.
Not so with myth. It comes right over to you, fawns over you, airbrushes your photo, and botoxes your face. It flatters you with weak light and strong angles. It pretends you are the noble master and it is merely the humble slave… willing to do your bidding.“Life can’t be all bad when for ten dollars you can buy all the Beethoven sonatas and listen to them for ten years."
-William F. Buckley Jr.,