Dangerous

(Photo Inspiration--Unknown Photographer)

I've tried to write narratively today for a long time, but it is no use.  I must concede.  I have nothing to take its place, no substitute of any sort, not paragraphs, sentences, not even words.  I am reduced to letters.  I Google "fonts."  This feels like a dangerous day.  I could make mistakes.  

I like this photograph, though.  I think I could do something based on this.

*  *  *  *  *  

Classes, professors, books.  We study "The Story of Job" in a humanities class.  I am filled with indignation.  I do not like Job, his submissiveness, his subservience.  The lesson I learn is that if things go wrong, you will be alone.  But that was not his worst curse, I thought.  It was that he stunk.  That is hard to overcome.  

My professor instructed me to look at the story in a different way.  

When we began the term, my physics prof. looked like my father.  Around midterm, he began combing his gray hair forward across his forehead and quit using hair oil.  It was odd, but he was a nice fellow.  Everyone was changing.