Welcome, loves, to the P’osies Cafe Series, a new gathering for lovers of language and narrative. Our name, a playful blend of “Poetry” and “Stories,” perfectly captures the essence of what we’re about.  In this series, my best friend and fellow writer will join me at our writers’ cafe with our laptops, pens and paper, and a couple of iced mochas or chai lattes. We’ll be sharing our own work—from whispered verse to sprawling tales—and we invite you to listen, reflect, and get lost in the power of storytelling.

Today at the cafe, we have part two of A New Hope, written by Saneatra Polk. So, come on in and enjoy. Without further ado:

A New Hope Pt. 2 (c) 2025

Have you ever wanted to give up simply because you couldn’t see the bigger picture? That’s how I felt the further I walked east. There are fewer camps. The world around me turned into nothing but dust and the occasional flicker of sun or moon through the haze.

The voices were still with me, but quieter now—like they were watching to make sure I kept going. I still didn’t know why I was being sent so far, just that I was obeying.

Traveling east felt like climbing a mountain made of ruins. Old skyscrapers had collapsed into jagged hills of metal, glass, and concrete. Even with the abilities I got from the bioweapon attack—speed, heightened senses—the journey wore me down. No water. No posies. I wasn’t sure I’d make it much longer.

Then I saw it—a beam of light shooting from the ground into the sky.

Light meant people. Camps. Maybe food. Maybe help.

I headed toward it and found the Sky People.

One of them approached me and said someone was waiting to see me. A girl from the orphanage. Like me, she survived the biochemical blast. But instead of speed and voices, she came out of it blind… and able to see the future.

She couldn’t see me with her eyes, but she recognized me immediately in the spirit. She told me I had to keep going, no matter how hard it became. She said a message was waiting inside the box I’d been sent to find, and that I was the one who had to deliver it to the people.

The weight of it hit me: Why me? What made me worthy of carrying something meant for the world?

The Sky People gave me water and posies. Before I left, they told me that if I continued in the same direction, I would reach the Green People—and they would strengthen me for what comes next.

When I walked away from their camp, I carried something I didn’t have when I arrived: a sense of purpose. For the first time, I started to believe… maybe I really was chosen.

Have you ever felt like giving up—only to find unexpected strength or help right when you needed it most?

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