Good Evening hopeless young woman.

Just as I went to bed the Police called me out. A young woman have had enough. She apparently sat with a sliver of sharpened glass ready to cut herself to death. I drove into her dilapidated township awashed with people in the streets probing the fading possibilities of the late night.

Somewhere else, middle class people were getting deeper into their dreams of comfort, smiling subconsciously as life was turning out just heading for some form of better. I waited for the van that would cover me through these dark streets and looked at the flickering lights of life fighting the unyielding windows. I yearned to engage with those people that had the expanse of the universe laying into their existence, but now somewhere in front was a woman on the edge.

The van in front of me stopped. There was diluted light, unsure dogs, a dark sideway of the house leading me and my guards to a cart boxed framed room. The law made their way and then I faced you.

My heart ached, you so young and hopelessly heading for death. Unaware of your almost naked body and sobbing your heart’s lost coastline.

I sat down on the kind of chair queened for such a losing space, a plastic container, searching in my arsenal for a bright light. Watching your hand, praying to melt the sliver of sharpened anger, crying for your snotted hopelessness, ready to fucking fight for life on your behalf.

From somewhere in the dark universe, you gave yourself a slight another change and looked into my eyes for something to believe in. I felt the conman that hide away in all of us, and I promised you a year and a day, but I was praying into a dark unyielding heaven not to drop me in this risky quest. And if the heavens won’t yield, by god, I would summon the people that would yield to the plea of Jesus, Mohammed, Siddharta to be there for the wounded ones of life.

I succeeded to let you yield the sliver of glass, to cover yourself and to come with me to a hospital where a kind giant of a doctor handled you like you were his daughter.

So we, I, the doctor, the amazing empathetic ‘van people’, custodians of law and order, saw you into the hospital and the care of some more warm hearted and warm handed people and we all breathed quiet delight and followed our own ways into the night.

That was the first leg of a caring society. I then pleaded help for you, your child, to get you out of a spiraling disaster. When the ordained spiritual structure of society once again dismally failed to help, I phoned some humans with hearts that still could ache to help lost souls and shuddering bodies. They responded and now we and you are up to a second wave, fighting profusely for life to be held in caring hands and hoping to look back in time onto the life of a woman probing a better future with her child.

We are feeble, but we ache when you ache.

We the ones in broken awe with the holy men that once walked these cratered curves of a cringing earth. And clowned we keep looking up into a fading sun and pray humanity to once, just a fleeting once, arrive before the final setting of the reeling yearning melting flux of our proud dapper sun.