Life of a Third Perspective

Markus waited for his morning bus, just like every other day. He had previously waited the bus at the same time, at the exact same place. Curious was, that somehow, Markus had been a bit slow while eating his porridge. It exactly slowed him down by three minutes. Markus consequently brushed his teeth for three minutes more than he usually does. This made him be six minutes past his set time for waiting the bus. Markus was concerned by the fact that the bus had already left him, for he had lost track of time. The contract Markus singed stated the bus would only wait five minutes. Even though he knew he was already late, he was sure the bus would come again. Cars passed by, but the bus didn’t come. Markus counted the minutes so he could do something useful while waiting. Markus was totally certain that the bus would come.

Exactly two minutes and fifty-two seconds before Markus sat down to eat; the bus driver was on his way to work. The bus driver was a corpulent man, about six feet tall and had a big, wide nose. His name was Lawrence, but friends call him Larry. While he drove to pick up his clients, he saw a boy asking his father to let him sit in the driver´s seat. Larry remembered that when he was ten, a bus driver let him sit in the driver`s seat; it was then when he decided to be a professional bus driver. The flashback did not last long. He said to himself thinking about my childhood is not appropriate at the moment. Larry´s thoughts and words were always straight and precise. He had taught himself to do everything at the exact time and place. Lawrence never was late or early; he tried to have a perfect way of living.

Between these two people, there was a factor that linked their lives. It is just a simple way of thinking that lets Spark see their lives in a third perspective. Spark is this spirit, in some kind of way. People think Spark is there when a good moment just occurred, or when the most beautiful chance to reach your dreams passed right by your side. Or maybe Spark is just a product of any man’s imagination.

Markus sat there for a whole day, now disappointed that his time calculations had failed him: for the very first time. Feeling like a bum, he walked down the street, headed to his favorite café. While he walked slowly, he counted his steps. Deep inside Markus knew that he didn’t fail. When he reached the step number 899, he stopped completely. Looking up he saw two little feet, similar of those that Markus had when he was a child. Markus also saw two short arms and a round belly. By seeing the small head he inferred without any second thought that he was day dreaming. This little boy was him. A small, chubby boy that always walked with his face down, briefly looking left or right, but never upwards. Not knowing what to say or what to do, Markus turned around. Nervously, Markus trembled in his walk. How can this be happening? He thought. Just like the bus driver Lawrence, Markus walked perfectly. The more perfect Markus was, the more satisfied he felt. To calm himself down, Markus counted backwards, from 899 to zero.

Lawrence entered the highway and drove his clients to the Business Center. The bus driver always had his mind straight. Lawrence had never, ever crashed another car in his life. That was why companies wanted their employees to travel with him. Lawrence took a minute to look at his clients through the retrospective mirror. He had his bus almost full. Almost full. . Lawrence couldn’t believe it himself. How could I leave behind one of my clients? He thought. While he parked his coaster, Lawrence’s mind was full of un-straight thoughts. Lawrence just couldn't get over it. As I mentioned before, Lawrence thought he was a perfect man.

Markus, who had walked 899 steps back to his original waiting place, was still thinking what to do. He had missed a whole day of work. This was his first day missed. Shame on you Markus he said to himself. Markus’ conscience tormented him. He almost died from a heart attack when he checked his agenda: it was his one and only payment day. He hurried to call his dad. Markus thought that his dad would cheer him up a bit. But he called and his dad didn’t pick up the phone. He called again. There was no answering machine, no leave-the-message voice, no nothing. His dad didn’t live close. Markus had left his natal country in search of better jobs. So he called his dad’s cell phone. For his surprise, no one answered the call.

What shall I do? His life looked like a magician pinching a voodoo doll. Seeing that there was no real solution for his agonizing life, he figured out he was trying too hard.

Comes to be that Spark, or what ever it could be, made broke the cycle of perfection of these two men. Both men can`t believe what is happening to them. Perfection, in a brief way, is not suitable for the human race. Not even animals. Life, however, is in some way, perfect. You can choose how to live. You can choose who to love. And more importantly you can think just like Spark: now you know to see life from a third perspective.

I have really not finished this, but i think i did my best. Happy reading!