..

“Decide,” said Dad
Inside our house, “or there’ll
B3 unhappy people—you
Me, and your mother.”
Right then I felt my insides
Bite. Arranged marriage. What a
Waste, never to chose my own wife,
Taste the freedom of a
Poorly-informed decision. “I’m
Sorely afraid that she’ll make me
Sick.” I said. And then, so
Quick, Dad points at Mom. “I was
Denied that freedom. No chance to
Decide for myself. I didn’t think she could
Satisfy me. But our love you can’t
Buy, or Consume like candy. You think in a
Bar you’ll find someone like her? Maybe.
Far from likely. Trust me. When you’re
Done loving choice, start Producing love, choose
One choice: to love. And love that choice.”



(Transposed from The Vending Machine)