Brian Richardson would never even begin to consider it a miracle. So you shouldn’t either. If anything, think of it as luck smiling down on Brian for once in his life. It could have been this, or he could have won the lottery; I leave it to you to decide if he was lucky or not.
Spring in New York is heavy with compromise- winter coats vs. jackets, frowns vs. smiles, valentine chocolates vs. genuine shrugs.
When Brian walked out of the subway he had none of these things on his mind. He had just devoured a serving of Pad Tai on the train and opened the fortune cookie. It had simply said, “Love will find you around the block.” He had tried to exhale the fumes of desperation. Instead he let out dry coughs.
Brian walked around the police horses next to the subway exit. Missed the warm smile he received while almost tripping in a quasi-run to get around the corner. Once there he stood. Waiting. And waiting.
Finally, when the music in his head began to fade, when the piano began to play long notes instead of vibrant, sharp, ones; he rested his back onto the concrete. Maybe good fortune did only happen to others he reasoned. Maybe the rain was acidic; maybe not only luck was missing- but reason as well. These things started to make sense. Made perfect sense. Until the woman with the ignored smile approached and said hi and rendered them irrelevant.