Another overheard snippet

So today in the local coffee shop, a man was ranting as he waited in line: “They should give them to me, I’m telling you, I’d do a better job …” while the guy beside him nodded and smiled and tried not to look like he wished he was somewhere else. I tuned the man out, turned back to my laptop and my iced tea, when out of nowhere his voice rose, and I heard,

“That’s what I was trying to tell those kids! Those are magic beans! They can do anything with them!”

All at once I remembered that the people who make us a little uncomfortable, whose words don’t quite make sense, who scare us a little, because we don’t understand them or what they really want; the old men and women at the crossroads, who are not quite in the same world we are–in stories, those are the people who show up bearing magic, and who you ignore at your peril.

Of course, this particular man might have been talking about coffee beans, given the setting. He might have been talking about some more illicit substance.

But the writer in me, the reader in me … would rather believe otherwise.

I hope those kids realize what they have, before the end of their story.

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