December 20th
one million seconds before midnight
At this point, Charon, anything else I say about my coffee stories will probably sound pretentious to you. Even the word pretentious sounds pretentious. After all, what could it possibly mean to tell stories to someone you never met, whose voice you never heard, and whose eyes you rarely saw?
If pretentious isn't the right word, then maybe it's self-indulgent. That actually sounds closer. Or maybe it's just a mystery that never gets solved. Or it might even be a riddle surrounded by a mystery that's inside an enigma with the whole mess wrapped in bacon. It could be anything. Anything at all.
And with so many accidents in life, it's impossible to know the answer because so much depends on luck. You see, Charon, (in one way or another) we flip a thousand coins, roll a thousand dice, and turn left, right or go straight a hundred thousand times. In the end, we find ourselves at Point X instead of Point Y. Or see a monogram emblazoned on our towels with an R instead of a C. For Ril instead of Charon. (But seriously, does anyone do that sort of thing anymore? Well, I guess it doesn't really matter. It's just how it is.)
All I can say now is that it would be a lie to claim that I did my best with these stories. You know that can't be true because nothing is ever the best. But in all honesty, I'm comfortable saying that I tried very hard to show you how everything started and where it ended up. I'm just not very good at telling the truth.
My last words of advice for you are simple. If you want to know something about yourself, follow a dog. If you want to know anything else, follow a cat. Those two sentences are all you really need to know if you want to understand life. Trust me. I wouldn't lie about something so important. And I've lied about almost everything I've ever said, but not that. So please, Charon, stick around a little longer and follow the cat the rest of the way. They almost always know where they're going.
starling
I'm sorry it took so many words to get to the point. As my father often said to me, 'It's time to shutup, now.'
YOU ARE READING
just follow the cat
General FictionHow would God respond to making a mistake? Would planets collide or mountains slide into the sea? Or would the ledger of all life simply remain out kilter until a series of small events forced that ledger back into balance again? It's probably the l...