Sparkler Snapshots

XI | The Blossoms of Labor

"Spring is nature's way of saying, 'let's party!'" – Robin Williams

Date: May 1st, 2017

Occasion: May Day, International Worker's Day, Labor Day, Celtic Fire of Beltane, Bringing in the May, Fertility Festivals, Walpurgisnacht

Country: Worldwide

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XI | The Blossoms of Labor

Story #1

It takes him several lingering seconds before his vision slowly clears, psychedelic swirls of bright colour constantly creating optical illusions while merry laughter greets his ears. He observes, a hint of a smile lurking upon his lips, as families and friends alike raise their glasses to proclaim a toast, relishing in the length of twenty-four hours where they can explore the realm of freedom.

Not that it applies very much to him, of course. Labor Day is frequently spent with loved ones of many ages, ethnicities, varying degrees of love. Having that feeling be fully absent in his orphaned life had not so much bothered him, but allowed him to make peace with his own being, to enjoy the lasting moments of his own company. But as he watches parents chasing their children as they happily play tag, the feeling of self-love shifts into one that he is not familiar with.

There is not much he can do about it, he is aware, but suddenly he just wants a family. A shelter, shielding him from the torrents of rain that pour above his unprotected head during sleep. A hearty meal to devour, instead of scraps borderline three weeks old. Loving hugs and cheek kisses from a family he can call his own, sending him off to school. The more someone has, the less they appreciate it. Children, underestimating the power of education. How he yearned for the resources that could improve his intellectual personality.

Everyone hates sob stories, and he is no exception. A teenaged boy, without any parental guardians in his life. You would expect that money and food would be the more expansive issues, but the loneliness has finally started catching up with him in a seventeen year game of deadly tag. Selling misshapen bits and bobs had earned him a few acquaintances, but only in the realm of business. He had worked from dollar stores to Starbucks, hiding behind fake personas and "hi, I'm Jeff!" name tags, even though his real name was definitely not Jeff.

Reaching for the minuscule digital camera which is tucked in the pocket of his ratty old jeans, he presses the on button and holds it up. The screen frames a family of four, who are each engrossed with their own activities, but he can sense the bonds between them. His index finger lightly taps a button, capturing the mother mid-laugh, the father in the midst of excitedly telling a joke, while the two children shovel chocolate cake into their mouths in a fierce eating competition.

Nixing the self-pity that tries to swallow him whole, he sighs and puts the camera away. Looking at the picture is unbearable, but so is deleting the picture, as though wishing ill luck upon a family. He heaves a sigh, making his way back through the park as inconspicuously as possible. Although today is Labor Day, does not mean that he gets a break from constantly letting his fingers rub raw from practical work, nor keep an eye out for flashy trinkets one may have dropped.

Alas, that was the despair that greeted the doom of being homeless, he supposed. There was almost no such thing as a holiday, as he must make a living out of whatever time he has. Either that, or he curls into a ball and awaits Death to snatch him up in its eagle claws, but that means defeat. He does not like being defeated.