Sometimes it is an outrage. When Mila considers the chances and possibilities in this world, the fine lines and gaping canyons between what is good or not, the distances between blessed and cursed, she is outraged enough to spit!
"I have had a hard life, no doubt," she mutters inwardly on her way to catch water from the well. "I've had a life that makes others wonder how I have managed, still, to have an open heart and loving. I am flawed and far from perfect but I BELIEVE!"
Mila believed in goodness and love and light, even after the days of Noe and all the hurtful ways and words. She believed she was blessed and graced with rare and tiny magics.
"A fact," she whispers into the darkness, "a fact is that flowers make me happy. A true and honest joy in this world so full of those anxious to grind any bit of beauty straight to dust. This happiness is a miracle."
"Who needs millions? Let me lay down on a blanket in the grass, let the sun shine, let the dog come in and snuggle me, let me hold a child or a grandmother's velvet hand. Give me coffee!"
Once, while swimming naked in the inlet, a manatee gently licked her foot and swished slowly away --she was wealthy!
At times she thought her heart would burst in gratitude.
Piss on all of you who think the goal is everywhere but love and your own stupefyingly gorgeous souls. You are poor fools destined to die as you live: empty into eternity.
This is as close as Mila comes to prayer. Once said, she can kiss the ground and begin her day.