I wrote a novel last year
As I write this it remains unpublished
But I think about one concept in it
The opening scene
On a dusty road
Our protagonist of sorts
Swerves his SUV to avoid a man on a bicycle
He doesn’t avoid him
He hits him
The man dies
Yea, I should have played this up more in the book
When he suddenly realises he may hit him
What force moves his body into action first?
Genuine goodness not wanting to harm
Or fear of the law?
I’ve thought about this somewhat
In the year that’s passed
Who are we really?
Do we even know
Will we ever
Is goodness real
Or is it coerced
Is our virtue merely an act
To attain an outcome
Driven by selfishness
What is goodness anyway?
I think of this when I fill the birdfeeder sometimes
Do I do it for the birds
Or because I enjoy watching them come feed?
In a world that has all the answers
Sometimes it’s good not to know
I’m tired and a little cynical
Maybe all this will seem like a dumb question
In the morning