The Men in the Shadows

There is a man who is invisible.

It is amazing how someone can be so big. So black. So powerful. And, yet, move so quietly through the world, like a shadow.  His eyes are deep.  His silence, deeper.  It is not hard to walk right past him without speaking.  He will let you.  Every time. 

But, if you do choose to speak, smile, say hello, you will be surprised.  From the shadows comes a ray of light that is his smile.  His eyes twinkle and his soul shines with goodness and kindness.  He is genuine.  He is thankful.

I want to know what he thinks about.  I wonder, and imagine, what his ol’Louisiana home was like.

Would he, like Johnny, and Little Johnny, and others beside them, have taken their lunch in my grandmother’s kitchen, while we dined in the other room?  Might he have driven into town on errands for her?  Could he too have moved furniture, cut grass, cleared plates, and loaded trucks and trailers to her order?

And, would he too have held and admired my babies?  Smile at how they’ve grown?  Felt the love of an entire family from arms length? 

Would he, too, not believe his image in photos to be true?

Quiet.  Loyal.  Working.  Proud.

These are the men in the shadows.

 

This is written as a part of the {W}rite-of-Passage Writing Well Challenge #1. 

Find a person and study them. Build them into your own short piece.

**Note – Quite honestly, after reviewing more pieces in the challenge, I think I’ve done this wrong…but I’m posting this anyhow.  I’ll take another stab at it this week…