All Life is a Matter of Possiblity

I wondered for the first time where I myself would go next, and , if I went there, if that path might branch as elm trees do and as rivers do and go elsewhere.  Would I ever come back to the place where I started?  What portion of my lot would be choice and what part accident?

I realized that my life itself was then all a matter of possibility.  Who knew where I would go next or with whom, or with whom I would meet? Yet some one thing would happen and not another.

I would have liked for the moaning of the wind to be louder; I would have liked for the rain to drum more furiously.  I wanted to be closer to those living elements.

Who does not like to fall asleep with the rain beating on the roof and the wind rubbing the outer walls, while oneself is dry and warm in comfortable bed?

How strange that sometimes things as well as people deserve some formal farewell.

Assembled from Ahabs Wife, or the Star Gazer
Sena Jeter Naslud

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