I asked my wife a question."Whyddyaget one percent ?" I sat down at the computer desk with a slice of banana bread to type. Pain radiating from out of my knees. I am chewing my finger tips gaining on extra crumbs. I take a sip of milk. I am still processing what I need to say. Elijah is cooing in the background and Brigid is cooing back. I lick the inside of my gums searching for crumbs. I look at my fingers and thumbs dancing like sticks on a drum.
The silent hum, I wait for the angels to come and whisper something into my ear.
It was never so clear to me as it is now; how I fell down, through a manhole cover. Not just ten minutes ago from now. Who was the Bastard that moved it out of the way. Did he have a camera. Was it a trap to steal my wallet. What kind of fiend would think of something so devilishly simple as pulling a manhole cover off axis just a little ? This is absurd! Outrageous! What is the universe trying to tell me with this one? My lovely wife tended to my wounds with alcohol. I made her stop a few times because I didn't want to blackout and punch her. The pain was so exquisite that I could feel myself topographically inside space. The outside of the knee and the Inside of the knee are horrible places to have cuts. It is even more horrible is have alcohol patted onto those cuts with a paper towel. What are the chances of a man walking down the road and falling into a manhole?