text: Maddie couldn’t imagine. For everything to be fate would be fine. For God to have created everything for a purpose would work. Even an epic battle between heaven and hell would have meaning. But randomness. That all could change because one stopped for a yellow light rather than rushing through before the light turned red. Unthinkable. Those were Maddie’s last thoughts as she tried to sleep. Δ In the morning Maddie woke before the sun as she always did on runway days. Good to get to the set and walk about in the quiet before her people started arriving. For a perfect show something always had to be fixed last minute. No matter the chaos, she never forgot she lived her dream. Maddie always wanted to work in fashion but, not being pretty enough to model, had to work in the background. For years she accepted every jig in hopes it would push her further up the road where she now lived. After showering and breakfast, Maddie filled her favorite mug with coffee and smiled at the deer print. The landscape mug had been chosen from a mix at her favorite artist’s gallery. With it she went out to her front porch to watch the sunrise and scroll through Facebook. She liked using her downtime to scroll for notices and reviews. Passing through lots of nonsense, she paused at a photo of the New York journalist, Annelies Frank. She’d died. The article was her obituary. Working for Annelies was Maddie’s first set experience and at the end of this week’s success, Maddie was to be interviewed. As it was 6:11 she had another ten minutes before her driver arrived and so tapped the article. Annelies had been ninety-four and great grandmother of seven. There was a photo of her hugging a laughing boy. Δ But this wasn’t true. Maddie no more ran fashion runways than there was a famous New York reporter named Annelies. Tossing in her sleep, Maddie tried to wake but the dream turned and she was clicking on the link. Nearly a hundred years had passed since Annelies was born in 1929. Too many years for Maddie to imagine what that world was like. Among recent reviews, Maddie saw Lady Gaga and Katy Perry, but bypassed those looking for a different interview from 2002. That was Maddie’s first meeting with Annelies and her first time working in any sort of limelight. The 2002 interview stood out in bold yellow type. Tapping that link, brought Maddie to a studio. It was like waking in a memory. Or remembering. Maddie had been so nervous the first time she worked in entertainment. It didn’t matter that journalism was not fashion. She was jittery and more than once had to force herself to slow down and take a breath rather than rush under the lights and cameras. That day, determined to succeed, she learned to turn fear into excitement. She had walked through a door above which a neon sign flashed May 1, 2002. Inside the wide room cameras were being adjusted to focus on the comfortable chairs at the table in the room’s center. Among people doing checks Maddie had seen Annelies’s signature dark head and couldn’t help staring. A woman’s touch on her arm had pulled her from her awe. “Can you check the coffee.” She had pointed to the kitchen. Realizing she was there to serve, Maddie had hurried to find the coffee. Around her the bustling energy of noise and lights enveloped as she had hustled to arrange coffee in cups. She let the feeling sink into her skin so that she felt the shift before the hush fell and lights had gone on. At the back with everyone else, Maddie had been mesmerized as Annelies walked to the table. She had such presence, even if not famous, eyes would have been drawn to her. Looking at the camera, Annelies had said into the microphone. “As everyone knows last September our government prevented an attack on the World Trade Center. Tonight, I’ve invited two leaders from the civil rights movement to share their insights on these events. Please welcome the man best known for non-violence and peaceful protesting, Mister Martin Luther King.” A senior black man came out to greet her. After they shook hands, she had introduced, “And another leader known for more aggressive talk.” A taller senior man came out. “Mr. Malcolm X.” After they had shaken hands and sat about the table, Annelies smiled from her guests to the camera. “Thank you both for agreeing to this meeting. I must say, Mr. X, that you were the harder person to introduce. You’ve certainly gone through some transformations.” “The world has gone through some transformations,” he had answered with a chuckle. “I know what you mean,” Annelies had agreed. “It seems strange that race used to be such an issue.” It was fascinating to hear the men, in their seventies, discuss their long lives. Maddie’s heart ached when Malcolm X had answered that he’d been certain they were going to be killed back in the sixties. Annelies had begun the interview asking, “Do you think there can be a peaceful solution to the middle eastern conflict that seems to be spilling over into this country?” “Its definitely possible,” Malcolm X had answered. “Let me tell you if we’ve been able to find a peaceful solution for the problems in this country, anything is possible. I still remember being sure, both Martin and I, would be killed in the sixties, but look at us now. I’ll be seventy-seven at the end of this month. My wife and I have been married forty-four years. Back then I never thought I’d live this long.” “And back then you didn’t always agree on how peace could be achieved,” Annelies had asked. “We were always on the same side. The same team or family. Our differences were only ever in opinions not in real value.” “As it is with lots of problems, people likely have more in common if they stopped to look. I think focusing on how we are similar all part of one human creation we would be lots better off than looking for what divides us.” “Always better to choose peace over fear.” They laughed before Annelies nodded and had added, “And what exactly is racism? I mean its divisions in the human races, but how exactly are we suppose to be divided?” “In America, especially in the south, people were divided in categories of black and white,” Mr. King had answered. “But when I was growing up in German, jews were considered a whole separate and inferior race,” Annelies had answered. She was born the same year as Martin Luther King and had grown up Jewish in Germany when people were afraid on the Nazi seizing power. Such a relief none of that happened. Δ The scene faded, and as Maddie realized she was dreaming her alarm went off. She had to get up before the sun, not to coordinate a runway shoot but to serve breakfasts at a diner. After showering and breakfast, Maddie sat with her coffee and scrolled through Facebook nonsense until passing a child’s familiar photo. Anne Frank’s full name was Annelies Marie Frank. Jewish girl born in Germany in 1929. Killed by Nazi in 1945. Had wanted to be journalist.