Choose your path wisely

In the clutches of a nightshift, a gravedigger speared a shovel into partially dug soil. His hands abandoned the shovel and rested onto his waistline, as he took a quick breather. His eyes walked a thin line of nighttime, scanning over the wealthiest place on planet earth. A place full of wonderful dreams that were buried unaccomplished, marvelous talents worth billions and billions of dollars, wasted by the death of their lazy owners—six-feet-beneath the earth, all those magnificent gifts rests with a scowl.

The gravedigger exhaled. He erased sweat off his forehead, and continued his digging—gig to unbury a casket that its rent had expired at the cemetery.

After a series of vigorously digging, the shovel headbutted something wooden, and the rent-expired casket appeared from within the soil.

The gravedigger opened the casket, and to his surprise, rotten bones, and eyeless skeleton of a dead person, that he was expecting to see haunting his dreams many days afterward, were not in his sight. Instead, two small notebooks rested within the casket—one completely black and branded with Moleskine, and the other, not completely black, and unbranded.

‘Choose your path wisely,’ the gravedigger saw those words, engraved clearly within the casket.

Curiosity overwhelmed the gravedigger. He picked up both notebooks, saying to himself, “what could be within these books?” He stored the branded notebook clutched between his armpit, as he opened the unbranded.

Immediately, as his eyes bounced off the first page of the unbranded notebook, his eyeballs popped out of his sockets. “$20,000 in cash…is somewhere 3 miles west of here!” he gasped and cupped his wide-open mouth. He quickly flipped through the pages, reading through the instructions, and daydreaming of a brand-new life: a life of luxury comfort and delicious foods, a life without a shovel and a grave to dig.

He switched hands, and opened the Moleskine branded notebook.

Immediately, his eyeballs depressed within his sockets. “Coupons to Moleskine products, worth about $20,000…and a scholarship? Coupons…and a scholarship, or $20,000 in cash, right now?” The gravedigger quickly and senselessly made up his mind. “$20,000 in cash first,” he closed the Moleskine notebook, and pulled himself out of the dug-out.

He abandoned all his tools, and took the two small notebooks with him. A few steps out of the cemetery’s sight, the gravedigger came across two roads, slicing along the west and east compass line.

He stood on the edge of the two roads, un-completely sure of which one to take. “West is where the $20,000 is…and east must be the Coupons and the scholarship,” he opened the Moleskine notebook for clarity. As he flipped through the instruction, a bright and brilliant sentence written on a single fine page within the notebook, captivated his attention.

Your worth is measured on a scale of your knowledge; seek knowledge first, then the rest will be added onto after.

‘$20,000 is waiting for you, right now,’ a voice like a shadowy guardian angel, coming from his left shoulder, drilled through his eardrums. ‘Just head west.’

His feet shifted across the ground, and the gravedigger headed west. He proceeded toward the money, but the warning words from the branded notebook twisted and turned within his mind, begging him to reconsider his life’s choice.

After an unrestful moment marching through the night, the gravedigger reopened the Moleskine’s book, and read another persuasive sentence that tried to change his way.

‘Don’t be persuaded,’ the same voice from his left shoulder whispered into his ear. ‘What good are coupons going to do for you? What good is a scholarship to you?’

‘They’re not merely coupons, or just a scholarship,’ finely, a good quality voice from his right shoulder spoke. ‘It’s knowledge: a boost through life.’

‘It’s painful; boring, blood-sucking slow attained knowledge. It’s not worth it.’

The gravedigger nodded, and continued his journey toward the west, flipping through the Moleskine notebook. In doubt of his own path’s choice, he began paying close attention to every single word written within the Moleskine notebook. Suddenly, the next two soul captivating sentences captured his interest.

Education is the key that opens the bright doors of the future. Knowledge is the pillar of all things in heaven, earth, and above the realm of all things beyond understanding.

'Money…money, and money. That’s all you need to think about.'

'Your future is more important than money. Good process and the right procedure, are better and more rewarding than suddenly-blind attain results.'

Two opposite voices with different goals, both disguised in the shadows of guardian angels—one from the left shoulder, and the other from the right, continued whispering havoc like a wrecking ball within the gravedigger’s head.

“Maybe I should rethink about this path,” the gravedigger thought.

'$20,00, that’s all you need to rethink about. You can multiply that…and become a millionaire, and a billionaire.'

'Knowledge, wisdom, and understanding can wisely bring you to that destiny.'

'It’s awful; tedious, blood-sucking slow attained knowledge. It’s not worth it.'

The gravedigger, shaking his head, continued walking with unsureness through the night, continuing to read from the Moleskine notebook. Suddenly, like a presence of a lightning bolt, a desperate sentence jumped off the page and into the heart of the gravedigger. The sentence captivated and cultivated the gravedigger’s interest in knowledge afresh.

With knowledge come great opportunities, and with great opportunities, come great rewards.

The gravedigger paused for a minute, pondering the writing written within the Moleskine notebook. “Maybe I should head east, toward this slow attain reward, so-called knowledge,” he said, thinking out aloud. He turned toward the east, and his eyes gazed upon a long weary infinity-like road, bending toward a figurative ocean of knowledge.

He sighed, and took a few steps toward the light. Suddenly, the voice from his left shoulder and his lust for money discouraged his resolve. “Yes, you are right. I need the $20,000 now,” he nodded to the voice dancing on top of his left shoulder.

The gravedigger hesitated a bit, and then changed his direction, heading toward the west again.

Past a small human-made beach, and through a sketchy forest, he abandoned the Moleskine notebook on top of a dry stone, before entering into muddy and troubled waters—without his lifejacket.

Like a fool out of school, he left the small Moleskine notebook behind, with many lifesaving pages still yet unturned, and yet unread.

The gravedigger walked ankles deep through swamp waters, with his eyes glued between the pages of the unbranded small black notebook for direction. About three more minutes into his money pilgrimage, and 500 meters deeper into a wet forest, completely isolated from many souls. The gravedigger grinned, with a quick fist pump, as he saw a wooden chest waiting for his arrival.

He walked toward the chest with a flattering heart, and opened it. Immediately, his eyes smiled, his ears smiled, his nostrils smiled, and his head rocked slightly with pleasure, seeing $20,000 in cash, resting at ease within the treasure chest.

Unknowingly, the gravedigger, with all of his lust for money, stood in the clutches of darkness. Before he laid a finger upon the $20,000, his jaw dropped to the ground, as he realized that he was sinking, waist-deep within a mighty quicksand.

He panicked, and began fighting to free his limbs out of the trap of greed and materialism.

But time began ticking at a blinding speed—due to expire soon. One…two…three…four minutes ticked off a clock, as the gravedigger sunk deeper and deeper inside his doom.

“Help! Somebody help me,” he began screaming, louder and louder, each fading minute.

‘Nobody is going to save you now,’ I whispered within the gravedigger’s left ear, and then congratulated him on coming to his end.

‘I am unbranded, the angel of darkness,’ I introduced myself, with a devilish voice ringing within his left ear. ‘I have put many people like you to their doom. You should have listened to the Moleskine’s notebook’s voice, your guardian angel on your righthand shoulder, and lived to a bright future.’

Eight…nine…ten…eleven the clock ticked—time, didn’t care to wait for somebody to come and rescue him.

With time, the screams of the gravedigger filled the silence of the pre-dawn hours.

Fourteen…fifteen…sixteen…seventeen minutes passed by in agony to the one who lusted after money. In despair and desolation, he could not do anything with the $20,000 he had desperately wanted to have.

The gravedigger sunk up to his neck, and a single tear from his red-colored eyes, trickled down his cheekbone. With a voice covered in fear, the gravedigger prayed. Then, like a stoplight, his voice ceased. His eyes closed, as he submerged entirely into the quicksand like a lonely-wounded battleship, going down and under the sea. Gently, he slipped into eternal goodnight.

‘Another one bid this world goodbye,’ I, the unbranded, added a one to the tally of my victims.

The angel of light—added a one to a tally of his lost souls.

I retracted my wickedness, and set the same trap inside a phonebooth. And just like all the other traps over the centuries and beyond, the Moleskine notebook, set the same rescue plan within the same phone booth. Even though I was down 7-1 in ratio, the war between light and darkness continued.

‘Choose your path wisely,’ the angel of light, engraved those words within the phonebooth, hoping to save a life, by giving it knowledge—spoiling it with the Moleskine tools to dig-up education, and a Moleskine heartwarming scholarship.

Time shook-up the day, and an hourglass broke.

Then, in the pre-dawn hours, a woman in her early adulthood, approached the phone booth.

'Here…we go again!'

THE END!