There are forces that pull us straight up to face a situation. We feel the seconds lock into place, the grating of cardboard fate against our flimsy edges, our almost mindless reaction to rise up and change the story’s end.
Are we destined to be acted upon, with all the paper parts fitted from the beginning by a Great Book Binder? Disaster with its tearing claws, fear that dissolves our intentions, selfishness with it’s cloying glue keeping us rooted betwixt the pages. Or do we surprise ourselves and those divine hands full of paper cuts when we come forth, backed with our own resolve, and raise each corresponding cut out above those terrors so…

Beautifully.