READ THE STORY

The page tore all the way to the spine. She hadn’t meant it to, she was just standing in the aisle haphazardly flipping through a magazine and ::skrrrrrchshhh:: the page tore. Alarmed, she closed the cover and looked around to apologize but no one was in sight. She stood there momentarily, magazine closed with her fingers still on the torn page, wondering if this meant she should now purchase the damaged item. She didn’t want to. She didn’t want it. She didn’t even know what magazine it was. “Eleven dollars,” she uncontrollably exclaimed, reading the price contained within the barcode on the cover. Once again she looked around the store. Still no one to witness the event or her repulsion over current prices. She could just put it down. Put it back. No one would ever know… except the person who inevitably bought the magazine and found its blemish certainly only after getting it home to enjoy. “At least if I buy it I can’t blame something bad on this later,” she justified to herself. “Ugh.” She threw the magazine in her basket and continued her shopping.

She forced herself to take note of the particular beauty of this day as she walked home. Not a cloud in the powder blue sky. It hadn’t been her plan to go shopping so she hadn’t brought her backpack and the paper bag was getting heavy cradled in her arms. Even so, the sun was bright and warm and the wind made it just cool enough for her to be wearing her favorite pairing of clothes: a sweatshirt with shorts and sandals. Her new sunglasses completed her outfit and allowed for her to look high into the sky, quite near the sun. She had never had a pair of polarized sunglasses, she wondered again if they’d been worth it. But she had just fulfilled a pretty outlandish goal and decided to mark the occasion by buying herself something nice that would last a long time. Hopefully. “Yes.” She reassured herself as her thoughts drifted to just how expensive they had been and how she should have done something smarter with her money. The weight of the groceries shifted her thoughts again and evoked a tinge of remorse for deciding to shop without her backpack. 

For some reason, the clerk had put the magazine flat on top of the open bag allowing a sudden gust of wind to blow the pages open, momentarily blinding her. Dazed, she sidestepped right into a pole. “This magazine!” She exclaimed, again louder than she had intended to. She wiggled her new prized shades off her nose and onto the cover of the book to tame its wild sheets.

At home she sat the bag on her small kitchen table and first put away the magazine by tossing it across the room, aiming at nothing in particular. Finally, groceries where they should be, she sat down to collect her thoughts, which had been racing lately. This was part of the reason for her impromptu grocery shopping. What had started as a walk for some light exercise and vitamin D had evolved into another activity she found soothing. She knew everyone could benefit from therapy but sometimes she wondered if she needed medicine. Then she would rationalize situations. The world is in upheaval. Things aren’t great no matter where you look. The news constantly reports negativity. And social media, well, social media was not a place to visit if you’re feeling poorly. All in all, she felt so very small. Her mind began to play a highlight reel of all the slights she had committed to various individuals in the past. She walked to the refrigerator, intending to pour herself a drink, when the magazine once again made itself known. “For crying out loud… is that where I threw you,” she half heartedly murmured. She still hadn’t taken notice of what kind of magazine it was. She’d truly only been flipping through it to kill time at the store and only purchased it because she had damaged it. It had been the first one she’d grabbed. Now, upon closer examination, she found the title was a French word she did not know, though everything inside seemed to be in English. Either way, the purpose of this periodical still eluded her. She placed it on the table and returned to her quest of liquid reprieve. 

She sat the tall pour down, next to the magazine, and herself in a chair in front of them both. Leaving the beverage be, she again picked up the publication. “Okay, Mr. Magazine-that-won’t-quit, let’s see what you’re all about,” she said aloud as she leafed through. It was a standard entertainment magazine. Movies coming out. Pop stars. Hollywood stars. The newest music, nothing caught her eye until she reached the page she’d torn. She had somehow managed not to tear the page simply in half, but into three parts. She pulled back the middle section first, perfectly revealing a dramatic pair of lion’s eyes. “That’s weird,” she muttered. She then pulled back the top half of the page. This revealed, in bold letters, the words: “COURAGE IS ACTION.” Her eyes began to tear up. “Courage,” she half roared and half hoarsely sobbed. She’d held it together all day, focusing on simple, but good parts of her life: the sun, exercise, soothing activities, but this magazine, which seemed to have latched onto her, was now demanding more. “Courage?!” She sobbed again. The reel of past slights now played on a loop. She thought of how quickly she’d had to grow up to help care for her younger sister. She thought of how no matter how hard she worked, she still couldn’t afford half the things her peers were constantly obtaining and delighting in; how closely she had to keep an eye on her bank account, and that this very magazine was eleven dollars! …she thought of the night she woke up confused in a hospital. Then her thoughts grew broader as she compared her own situation with far worse. Atrocities and circumstances completely beyond her control or influence. “ACTION,” she cried. “Courage is ACTION?… What am I supposed to do?? I’m tired! I’m only one person! I’m just… me.”

She picked up the drink and turned the final part of the torn page before gently setting the glass back on the table. Through now dripping eyes, she read the last of what the magazine had to reveal. The third section held an outline of a mouse whose tail was curled into the shape of an “s” in the word “small.” The phrase attached to it read: “especially when you feel small.”