Monday, December 14, 2015

An Ill Wind

The guy walking about five, ten feet in front of me stumbles, catches himself, and continues walking.

At the same time, I also stumble, at the same time as I see him stumble, but like him I catch myself, and keep walking.

I didn't stumble on anything, didn't catch my foot on an errant piece of slate, or step on a cracked paving stone at a wrong angle, and neither did my doppelganger up there ahead. It was as if a wave of ineptitude blew down the street, catching us both with invisible hooks to trip us up, and then, fun over, it snuck off to trouble some other pedestrians.

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