As I was working in the garden today, I could hear the sorority house across the street - the repetitious two-bar tune and the lyrics of any stereotypical cheer leading scene, how great they are and how everyone wants to be them. I couldn't see them because of the courtesy trees planted on the edge of the greenhouse property but I imagined they were all outside, standing in rows, heads held high.
On the other hand, I was bent over a raspberry bush; a simple act of collecting my food. I tried to picture myself in a situation of singing in front of a house and doing nothing geared toward my survival. Some guys rode bikes past me and said something scoffish. Could they put themselves in my position instead of paying five dollars for a small container of what I picked a half gallon? It is a status, showing that one doesn't have to go to the source. But the source is that of more than just physical sustenance.
And then a phrase came and went: I heard the echo before the call.
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