while navigating a downtown neighbourhood, a friend and I tried to slip through an alley for a shortcut. as we reached the dead-end a construction worker appeared, dirty and perfect.
"Hello." said he.
"Can we get through this way?"
"sure."
At this point another perfect construction worker arrived with a wheelbarrow.
"where are you trying to get?" asked the first?
"just to the next street over."
"It doesn't go all the way through," spoke Hottie #2
As we beat our embarrassed retreat the workers offered us a job moving dirt with them. We should have accepted.
This simple narrative leads to the complex question, "How many perfect opportunities does a person get?" the answer to follow.
Later that day I spent a lot of time in the company of children. This is one of my favourite pastimes, and one of my favourite families with which to share said pastime. I told them a flying bed story as we drove along and they listened in silence, save for gasps and nervous questions. It was idyllic.
Answer: None. All we get are the opportunities we take, whatever comes of them is neither predictable nor perfect.
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