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[Synchronicity, 983 words, Genre: Experimental]

* Image courtesy of Dirk de Bruyn

Greg wasn’t busy doing much of anything. He was quiet, subdued and spent most of his time at home. At home, he would busy himself with simple tasks of feeding himself and keeping up a health regime to improve his own personal fitness. He worked on acquaintance within a company. And that company did not provide him full time work. But he had some work and was grateful for the extra cash flow into the bank on which he could have days like this.

Without checking the bus or train timetables he walked up to the bus stop. There was a bus that was coming into the stop. So he hopped along, entered the vehicle and took a seat. There were school students entering the vehicle. Gossiping about their social lives. Love, life and laughter. It is what happens at that age when you’re surrounded by those things. Those things being other people and when you came to the age of Greg you were isolated from the experience of life. He had already gone through those things. The absolution of a state of sobriety was what he was currently afflicted with. And after fading his vision with many a bottle of beer over the years, he had seen many things.

The bus was off to the bus station and instead of going directly to the bus station he decided to stop off at a book shop. In the book shop he did nothing but browse. He looked through the bookstore and its various contents. Not with the intention of buying any content. But with the intent to simply exit his humble home and get outside for the day. He looked at the bookshelves. Shelved with the different varying articles of dead men, alive men and women. All with their own counterpoint of what to say about the experience of life. The experience of living in a human community and their grievances within living within human autonomy. All an attempt to provide an alleviating opinion, so as to counter any feelings of despair that the human condition will undeniably experience.

After browsing the bookstore, he walked to the nearby train station and bought himself a sandwich. It was the first thing that he had eaten that day. Behind the counter was somebody who he had met on a previous experience. She had found a job within the service of food and she remembered him on their encounter. He asked how she had been, she was an international student studying within the town and had been settling in quite well. She wished him well and so did he.

The train then arrived and he hopped on. Going nowhere except for the one hour journey of going into the city. He looked outside at the paddocks and farmland that the train travelled across as it made its way towards its destination. His mind was filled with various problems that he had encountered through the experience of isolation and the dissolution of any feelings of individuality.

The train arrived at its destination and he decided to go and visit a friend in the southeastern city of the capital of the state. He caught that train and then another and then arrived at his friend’s home. He pushed the doorbell and waited for the door to be answered. He then decided to give his friend a phone call to which he did not answer. He waited around for some time sitting in the sunlight and smoking a cigarette.

He knew of another new age bookstore in the local vicinity and decided to go onward and waste his time there. He walked towards a tram stop and then just as he arrived at the tram stop so did the tram. He got on and sat down on the tram. The tram took him off to the bookstore.

The bookstore was a new age one. It sold crystals and different things. He bought a new book from the store for some sort of an exorbitant price and decided to read within the back garden of the venue. It was written on the nature of the Buddha and an individual was marketing themselves as the prophesied Maitreya.

He sat in the backyard and began reading. There was no insight that was profound enough to capture his interest and after some time he put the book down and fell asleep. There was a light rain that began to develop and the light rain fell across his cheek. He lay there with the rain slowly coming down on his cheek and fell asleep with the rain falling upon him.

Then a dream began, as he slept underneath an unnamed tree with various statues of angels and Buddhas holding lotus flowers in their hands. In the dream he caught a train. Other things happened. And then the dream faded, he could not remember what happened in the dream, but he walked away with the idea in his mind that he held a higher perspective. That was what he walked away with from the dream, a higher perspective and he did not even know it.

He awoke from the dream and then exited the bookstore. They thanked him. He thought about why they thanked him and he realized that they thanked him for keeping them all employed.

He stopped and had something to eat. And then caught another tram to a train station. He caught the train to his father’s home who was moving some furniture.

At his fathers’, his elder brother was there. Together they moved the furniture and then he went back to his own home.

Now, the point of this story is not what happened. The point is, without planning, by the simple steps of doing things on the spur he didn’t have to wait for a train, tram or bus for a single minute. Not a single minute. Everything was synchronous.


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