Member-only story
A World Without Success
Can there be joy?
Quincy was in the back yard with his badminton racket playing by himself. He hit the birdie straight up in the air then hit it again as it came down. It wasn’t always hit straight so he had to move around a bit to catch the birdie on its descent. Up and down. Up and down.
His mother came out to the yard, “My, Quincy, I was watching through the window and I must say that I am impressed with how long you’ve kept it going. What’s your current record?”
Quincy caught the birdie in his hand and turned to face his mother, “What do you mean?”
“How many consecutive times have you hit the birdie without it falling to the ground?”
“I have no earthly idea.”
“Don’t you count?”
“Oh gosh no. That would take all the fun out of it.”
“But if you count then you’ll know what your record is and then you’ll have a goal to beat; something to strive for.”
“Gee, that doesn’t sound fun at all.”
“Oh Quincy…” His mother went back in the house.
Ida Lou, the neighbor, was standing at the kitchen sink looking out the window at Quincy. When Quincy’s mother came back into the kitchen she looked at her, “So what’s his record?”
