Worthy

"Well, now, just look at that dog," Elmer said. "That's a fine dog." He gave the old boy a pet, taking a tail wag as payment. "See there?" he asked no one in particular. "Sun's tryin' to shine like a picture postcard." Elmer hugged friends and waved to strangers on his walk, then patted the mailbox as he put his cards and bills inside. "I always did like me the wonders of snail mail," he whispered, nodding his appreciation as he noted that the humble corner box still boasted three pick-up times per day. "You hit your head?" Deliah asked him when he got to the diner. "Out there muttering and grinning to yourself like a lunatic. I should switch you to decaf." Elmer laughed and told Deliah that she looked beautiful today. Turning to say good morning to the corner booth (two kids who looked like they were gonna skip school to fall madly in love), he turned back and said gently, "I make it a point to see the beauty in this place. I wanna keep reminding myself that it's a worthy world - so that I can remember that in dark times and so I can carry that with me when I leave it. I don't write my gratitudes down upon reflection; I look up, Deliah. I force myself to open my eyes and see." Jose was working the grill that day and he was deeply moved; it wasn't lost on him that the new burger spatula was a wonder - bright, shiny, and no gouges on either side. That's how the day should always begin, he thought, with no gouges anywhere and a firm grip.