And in the Tightest of Spaces

The sky is painted blue, white, and orange. In the distance, far off mountains look small and only register as a black silhouette. Three men are sitting next to me while I look away. They are strumming at guitars. Two seem to have been playing for awhile. The other, he seems to have just learned. But no one seems to mind. They all strum and hum, and I am there looking at everything.

Throughout life we are taught that being selfish, acting selfish, and anything motivated by selfishness is wrong. Whether it be religious teaching or a general calibration of one's own moral compass, we are taught to reduce the self motivation and use our energies on bettering the whole. Heroes comprise this ethos. Villains the contrary. But still, there is an innate motivation within us to be selfish. It's the mode of survival that demands, that at times, we think about ourselves. The self must survive and we must sacrifice the rest of whatever there is surrounding-man woman or any being-for our own survival. Otherwise, the loss is too great to quantify. And in the tightest of spaces, where it is almost impossible to discern which product will be of more value, that is where we must relearn, it is okay to be selfish.

A young girl with thick curly hair that hangs to her waste has joined the men. She sits opposite them on a small wall and pulls out of a long black case, a flute. It is dismantled into two pieces. But quickly she joins the two. The toe of her boot begins to clap the ground. She counts out a rhythm and then effortlessly, joins in with the men. One of the men stops his humming and says something with a smile. The girl, though blowing through pursed lips, joins in with a smile her own. And still I am sitting back, quietly, thinking about many things  and still I am there, looking at everything.


-Remoy