"The poet only asks to get his head into the heavens. It is the logician who seeks to get the heavens into his head. And it is his head that splits." G.K. Chesterton

Saturday, November 5, 2016

Into the blizzard.

You find yourself stranded in a heavy blizzard, in a town far away from home. It's dark, since the streetlights do little to overcome the thick torrent of heavy snow. Your phone is dead. The streets are deserted with no taxi or bus in sight. As you stagger along the snow covered footpath, with you eyes closed tightly to avoid the stinging bombardment of crystals against your face, your suddenly realize that you're right on the street next to where someone whom you know lives. Unfortunately this someone is no other than your lifelong, bitter enemy, and you know they feel the same way. You open one eye and see that the lights in the house are on, glowing with a warm and welcoming glow. You make a life changing decision and with great effort literally crawl up the icy steps toward the door. Then just as you lift your hand to knock, and brace yourself to bear all the humiliation and loss of dignity that will surely accompany the act of turning for help from the last person in the world that you would ever consider talking to, you suddenly recall another thing about them. They hate cats! You turn away from the door and decide to push on.

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