One-Hundred Three

I've heard it a thousand times; if I do this, I will get this, but after the one hundredth and seventeenth time I lost interest and the passage faded into the carpet of the hall--it was left to lie there, underneath the table, with coffee stains and donut crumbs. They read it again this morning, and as usual, I closed my mind and let it fall as I've done eight-hundred and eighty three times before. However, a woman whose husband is facing certain death picked it up and held it before my face. "Did you see this?" she asked. "This is where your focus should lay." And I looked, and I saw where she was right, and how I'd wasted so many days looking at what could be improved, rather than what was so perfect and beautiful.