“I watched the
vulture looking at me hungrily as I lay on the ground bleeding and injured.”
I had heard Savon tell this story a hundred times but it never got old. How he managed to cheat that vulture out of a meal always bewildered me. I want his kind of perseverance, but I’m fooling myself to think I can have it. I’m lazy. Always have been, always will be. In the same scenario I'm sure I would hang
my head and cry. As death wrapped me in a cold blanket I would let it carry me away.
How does one learn to stay the course?
For the first time I interrupted the retelling, “What made you think you could?” Those warm eyes stared back at me, “What makes you think you can’t?”
How does one learn to stay the course?
For the first time I interrupted the retelling, “What made you think you could?” Those warm eyes stared back at me, “What makes you think you can’t?”
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