WHO. WHOOO. WHoOOoO.

An owl was hooting, perched in a tree in a little natural abode for wildlife and the like along main street. Felson had caught the beginnings of a discussion about a block back but felt a little iffy joining it just yet, so he took a stroll instead. 

Sighting the owl, Felson stopped and peered up into the canopy of the tree. The sun popped its head out from behind a cloud, causing the Wise Guy to shield his eyes. He sighed.

"What's the quibble about?"

A stranger was seated under the large oak tree, against the other side of the trunk, out of view from Felson. The tree's thick branches twisted and forked out from the thicker trunk into an array of arms, that loomed over the area as you approached and looked like they were trying to snatch people up off the street.

Felson let Max off the leash and walked around the trunk. Spotting the stranger, he pointed skywards.

"Just trying to understand them, up there."

"And what are you learning?"

"Nothing. They seem absent. Uninspired. Where's the magic gone? Isn't that what makes them Gods?"

"Magic?"

"Yeah, that thing that you feel when you're inspired, you know?"

"Does that have to do with the Gods? Isn't that on us, to figure out?"

"What, us mortals of this world?"

The stranger nodded. His eyes were closed. He was wearing a brown robe and had a scruffy beard and matted unkempt vines for hair. He looked homeless, but relaxed.

"How does that work?"

"Well, the God's create the planet and all that's within it, right?"
 
"If we believe in that story."

"Well let's say we do for argument's sake. If they created it, then it's our role to inhabit and enliven it, no?"

"Sure. But what if we lose that vision, who then is responsible?"

"Floods."

"Floods?"

"If the world falls to shit because of its inhabitants, the Gods wipe it and it starts anew."

"I didn't know you could say shit.."

"I wasn't always a Monk."

"I'm guessing you didn't always have dreadlocks either."

The Monk's eyes were still closed. Felson picked up a rock and began fiddling with it.

"Ok, so we just wait for a flood?"

"That, or you can get off your ass and do something."

"I'm not a leader though? Why should I care or try to?"

"Everyone is a leader, and by extension everyone is a God. You create by your choices and actions, and you can only control what you yourself are, or aren't doing, in your own little world. You may have influence over others, but it doesn't mean you control them, so everyone is entitled to do whatever it is they choose to do, even if that means they simply choose to disregard their own responsibilities."

"Wait, so it's our fault this world looks so.. dreary and dead?"

"Not yours, necessarily. Not entirely. Some are just sheep, waiting to be led and these types may never truly get to experience their own greatness. They wait on others to show and tell them how to live. They've chosen to be sheep, so in their minds they can't really do anything but wait."

"So if that's how people are, then we really don't have any choice, do we?"

"No, that's the thing, they've chosen that narrative. They've chosen to give their control to someone else. They've made a choice."

"Why would anyone do that, though?"

"Well, it works. It works for them as long as their shepherds provide them with what they need. Until they don't, and then you have people like you and conversations like this."

"Alright, so let me wrap my head around this. We have free will to do what we want, but most choose to give that freedom away for.. comfort?"

The monk smiled.

"So people are just lazy, then?"

"Lazy might be a little judgemental. Let's use your words and say, uninspired, or apathetic. They have no reason to, or not to change. They're fine with the lot they have chosen, even if it looks a little.. dreary and dead."

"Why would people be fine being that way though? Can't they see the state of things? Don't they wish to do something, anything, to influence the world in a positive way? There's so much to live for. There's so much people can do to make their own experience better, at the very least for themselves if not for anyone else, and those actions may just bring some of that magic to someone else who's been stuck in this play, who's chosen that this must just be what the Gods have wanted for them."

"And that there dear Mickie is how leaders are born."

"What, from realizing how stale their lives have become?"

Felson didn't readily notice but the Monk had just used his name.

"Suffering. It's all suffering here, dear boy, but suffering itself is a path to brighter days. There's always a night before a dawn, and that dawn doesn't always last. It comes and goes like all things. What remains though, if you can figure that out, then you may just get to see and experience what they do."

"Experience what who do? The leaders of this world?"

"Sure, in a round about way, and in turn the magic the Gods have bestowed upon all of us. It's not just for some, it's for all, including you, dear Sunshine."

Felson leaned against the side of the trunk, tossing the rock into the air. He felt like the Monk was making sense but he also felt like he was still missing something.

"So how do I get this magic back then? I get it, we choose to be this or to be that and our choices impact the world in general. But why is it up to me? And why now, when the leaders of the world seem content with their lot?"

"Because if not you, then who? And if not now, then when?"

Felson took a seat next to the Monk. He struggled to cross his legs. He looked over his shoulder at the Monk then likewise closed his eyes and got comfortable.

"So what, the God's have no role in this?"

"Well, that's another conversation. I kind of don't want to get zapped by lightning, you know?"

"I dunno, Monk. Would be nice to know they exist, you know? And this isn't just all a waste of time."

"What, living is a waste of time? What else are you going to do while you're here? Sit and pretend you don't exist?"

"I dunno, it seems to work for you, no?"

The Monk cracked a wry smile.

"Well, some of us aren't really here, you know?"

Felson opened his eyes, turned to his right, and sighed. The monk was gone.

He took a stand, whistled to his dog and began walking back towards the sidewalk.

"Fuck this shit. I need to be doing something.."

I really love this. Thankyou for sharing. I hope others consider your encounter with this monk and hear the same message about daring to be great and not living an apathetic life.

I walk away and get a burger.

Don Al was sauntering down Main Street whistling a hype tune as he travels - there was always a rave going on in his head. But today's tune was especially joyous, much like his mood. He'd recently found the good 'erb thanks to fellow mobster Felson and a stroll in the park beneath the morning sun seemed like the perfect way to start his day. 

Being the crazy bastard he was, he hadn't yet considered the company of a dog. He'd always struggled with love but he'd claim publicly it was to avoid distraction from the importance of his work. But as he neared the park, seeing the love shared between Felson and his loyal beast Max got him wondering... Maybe a dog was what he needed.

He had tried a cat once - he'd had a rat problem in one of his early abodes when he was a young Earner still making his way in this world - just before he took that long nap in New York for what felt like a hundred days. But the cat was evil... A selfish little bastard only interested in licking arse and stealing food - a bit like most of the docile, comatose mobsters of our world today really. These days however, he just pulled out his pistol for any rat problem he'd come across. Al chuckles to himself as his brain journeys.

As Al drew closer to Felson, he notices him looking up to the sky while his dog runs excitedly around his feet. "Fel-sooooooon!" Al calls out, elongating the end of his shout. Max barks in response, quickly soothed by Felson's comforting order, confirming everything was copacetic as he moves towards Al - meeting somewhere in the middle.

"What you looking at?" Al looks up, covering his brow to avoid blindness. "Is it a bird? Is it a plane?" He chuckles, looking back down at Felson and squinting his eyes to chase off the blurring. 

Al kneels down leaning his left arm on his knee and holding his right hand out low - in front of Max who proceeds to give it a sniff followed by a lick. "Attaboyyyy!" Al scruffs his ears and scratches his neck before rising back to his feet.

"Hey, you know what I heard?" Al leans in, dusting some grass off of Felson's shoulder before speaking. "I heard someone got their bump up in the books." Al chucks a nudge. "So you're doing well over there in Alexa's operation eh?" He grins, chucking another nudge.

"Outstanding! Good fucking work, man!" He chucks a wink at the Made Man. "Knew it wouldn't be long... She'd be delusional to not see your effort!"

Al clears his throat, peering over his shoulder to ensure the shop talk hadn't been overheard by some schmuck - he was in far too good a mood to ruin it with violence right now. He removes his hat and pulls out a wad of notes which were folded into a solid lump. "Here, treat yaself to a decent drop of scotch, maybe treat ol' Max here too, eh? I'm sure you've chucked most of your money at the boss lady lately - don't tell her 'bout this bit. This bit's yours." He smiles, placing his fedora back atop his head.

"Anyway... What ARE you looking at? You look different today... I dunno - hard to put my finger on it."