Distant Early Warning
You know…the last assassin I saw peeking out your window had the damnedest daggers for eyes and… he almost snapped under the weight of recriminations…or he might have, but he didn’t care what he said because he said nothing. But man…you should have heard what he was thinking. THAT was rage.
And what lamp did you rub to appease this genie? Or is this a haunting?
Not at all, good sir. Admiring.
Your skill at sublimating the inevitable.
You assume reality and judgment will collide likes planets in a cheap sci-fi flick?
No sir…or yes sir. I’m not sure. If the two are incompatible there’ll be nothing left but a hole leaning inward.
Take care then, young gentleman. Rub the lamp and you lose the shine.
And who knows how slick the sides are…or how deep into the pit they go.