The Click of a Finger

I had fun writing this.  It’s all about the little things in life.  We never know what’s going on beneath the masks and the trickle effect one little action can take to brighten a day… 

There was a click of a finger… 

He woke up to the morning alarm singing its soft cadence in his ears. 

It was 4:30 AM, dark out and cold.  October had settled in Los Angeles, shifting the seasons like putting on a new pair of clothes. 

The window had been left open, the cool breeze sending shivers down his spine.  He pulled the covers tighter for a moment longer and then rolled out of bed.  The frigid wood floor stung his bare feet as he padded across the room and closed it. 

It was Monday morning and he had the blues.  So much had been happening lately that his mind was frazzled… 

There was a click of a finger… 

The past few months he had woken up every morning at 4:30 AM to train for a 13-mile OCR race.  He was an avid athlete growing up and this event would be a major milestone for how hard he had trained.  It would prove to himself that he still had what it takes at age 37. 

But a recent foot injury had put the dream out of reach.  He would need 4 weeks to recover and miss the race.  He was devastated.  So much work and dedication up in smoke.  But it was the resting that was the worst.  He was depressed and had lost his best reliever of stress… 

There was a click of a finger… 

Yesterday hadn’t been any easier. 

His wife was also dealing with her own depression.  Conflicts at work had escalated to a boiling point. she was constantly trying to deal with the struggles of not being able to have a child and finding new meaning in life. 

He had watched her sleep all day on the couch, unable to help her.  It tore his insides apart seeing her like this… 

There was a click of a finger… 

His own demons had been stirring lately.  He could feel them prodding below the surface, looking for a weakness.  It felt like a palpable presence pushing at the back of his mind.  Just waiting.  It was always waiting. 

Drug addiction leaves a stain that lingers deep.  It cuts to the bone.  And sobriety has a daily cost. 

He pushes hard to maintain his diligence, yet the constant effort takes its toll… 

There was a click of a finger… 

And then there was work.  Last week he had been notified that layoffs were coming.  He would have to help plan the restructuring.  The company had missed its targets for the entire year, manufacturing was slowing and the downturn was looming. 

He had been through the great recession, felt the pain and experienced the devastation first hand in the construction industry.  He remembered the blood bath.  He knew what the cuts meant, and it weighed on him.  Next week, lives would be shattered. 

But all you can do is press on.  So he brushed off those thoughts to the best of his ability. 

A bird chirped in the distance.  A lone car puttered up the empty street. 

He kept thinking of the brutal 40-mile commute awaiting him as he shuffled over the icy floorboards to the kitchen, still trying to kick the fog of sleep. 

Then his morning routine began: coffee, shower, breakfast and email. 

He swiped up his notifications and froze. 

There was a click of a finger… 

It was almost 9:00am on the opposite coast and a young woman sat at her computer. 

Where she was, we don’t know.  But we can surmise. 

Probably somewhere beautiful, and off the beaten path.  Maybe RVing down the open highway, or soaking up the salty air off the coast of Florida in a sail boat, or perhaps even enjoying the 4×4 van life, exploring the great unknown with her husband and two dogs. 

Regardless of the locale, she was sitting in front of a screen.  Maybe working.  Maybe dealing with her own problems, in her own way.  Busy.  Stressed.  Elated.  We’ll never know. 

It might have been generosity or reciprocity that happened to flitter across her mind in the moment.  But the intent wasn’t the critical part. 

It was the action she took. 

And then with a click of a finger, she posted to her account… 

He was staring down at his iPhone and saw the notification: 5:40am posted it said. 

His emotions shifted. 

What he was experiencing was hard to describe.  The stress and anxiety were replaced with a combination of glowing happiness, excitement and elation. 

He had just started a blog and the writing was not his best, he would be the first to admit.  Missed punctuation, wrong tenses, run-on sentences and bad spelling were driving him nuts, but he had to start somewhere.  And he had been consistent with posting, he was proud of that at least. 

But the best part, he was loving every minute of it.  Writing had become a therapeutic and cathartic escape from the pressures of corporate life.  It had sparked a creativity that he had forgot he needed. 

And when you break it down, it’s rather amazing that something so simple, a muscle reflex can send a digital message across an entire country in the blink of an eye.  There were no words exchanged, no physical interaction, yet a hint of human intention drove the outcome. 

An event was set in motion. 

The young woman would never know the ripple effect that the tiniest effort she had produced would have on a dark October morning thousands of miles away. 

He tapped on the post and his mind cleared, the clouds parted and the despair was lifted from his shoulders for the slightest reprieve. 

Because only a single thing mattered. 

Someone had noticed. 

And he smiled. 

-Q-FI