Harry Helms gathered his thoughts. He pressed his palms against his slacks. It didn't work. He cleared his throat - once, twice. His arms felt weak. Harry missed his mom. Oh god, he was hungry, too. Why, he asked himself, was he even here?

Just that day, Harry Helms had awoken to the sound of young birds testing their budding voices. He sprang out of bed without a second thought. He flew down the stairs, barely skidding to a stop in time to take his place at the kitchen table. His elbows instinctively found their worn spots on the wooden tabletop. Resting his face in open palms, Harry felt the heat of his eggs drift to his cheeks.

Cheese? She just couldn't ever remember! No matter how many times he told his mother that the perfect scramble had "milk, salt, pepper, and a little love," she just couldn't seem to get it right.

And there she sat, smug as can be. Oh, he couldn't stay mad.

"Can I get a side of eggs with this cheese?" he asked gleefully. "What are you - a cow?"

She, of course, was not a cow. She did not respond, however, because she was a can of spaghetti.

"Just kidding! I love you." He kissed her lightly on the lid. What a bright and beautiful morning! As Harry wolfed down his eggs, he wondered what he could do today. The day was long and the possibilities were endless.

"Aren't you going to be late for the Lucifer's Light meeting?" asked his mom.

Of course! Harry rushed off to give his speech.

"... can't we fill the world with joy? Haven't we lived the good life if we can inspire more happiness than anguish in the world around us?"

"No!" yelled the assembly in unison.

A black robe stood from the crowd. An elongated mask that seemed to resemble a tortured bird covered the faceless man.

"Now, I can't speak for the entire group..."

Suddenly, a blast of light erupted from behind his foul mask. Every member of the audience turned their gaze to the heavens and light shone from each and every one. With an ageless voice that held the decaying minds and perhaps even the devil himself, the man began again.

"Okay, now I can. You're not going to get very far here, buddy. Our world is soaked in poison. There is no hope for salvation. The lifesoul of the world is corrupted. For what possible reason could you have to dare voice such a pointless opinion?"

Harry Helms cleared his throat one final time.

"I suppose I'm not sure. Maybe I don't need a reason to speak. Maybe every voice ought to be heard in its most natural form. If the words I say are my own, they are valuable already. They become a part of the tapestry of my life and, just maybe, they will reach the ears of others. That alone is enough. I have little more than my words. Where they take me, I'll just have to find out.

Is it pointless? Sometimes. In a pointless world, there isn't always a reason to be coherent. For example, this article."

"What?" said that weird bird guy from before.