I was awaiting news from a friend, who knows a gal, that knows a guy. I had a question that I wanted answered and he seems to be the person that is uniquely well equipped to drop such science on me. On the way back from my lunch, a tap on the shoulder, a breeze across my cheeks, up, up, look up swirling out of mist and light, barely corporal and yet real.
“This is no good at all, we need to let more light in,”
the mist becomes rain, the fog drifts low. The walls are still rigid and now damp with the tense utterance. Like too much has been asked, and they strain under the weight of what they have been commanded.
“We only do the best we can.”