And then, an interruption, and a literal switch
interrupted. Process diverted—please collect
your bags on the way out, for this space has been deemed not habitable. Funny unexpected things, and they happen! They do.
Restore a suspicion of fate.
I put it that way cause that’s the best way I capture
it. It’s more honest to me. Fate is a
tingle, that when “working” instills a suspicion in me. In a good way. Like “for real? That happened in sequence?”
Enter a scenario about a guy (-- how droll--) entertaining
taking aim at something, but after good thought, concludes in goodness to
re-direct to safer targets. “Safety” was
construed out of a mental picture about someone else’s picture of mental “safety.”
Enhance resolution to proceed. Thnx, TSA.
Then, the guy mentioned of before, gets asked by another one
to take aim ‘cause it’s needed. Same
target as before. This guy, we’ll call
him “Colored Vabit”. He seeks assistance
in pest control.
Second party re-enforcement spotted on route, said to make
it up the mountain this afternoon.
Distilling, stay “safely” tuned.
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