Mystery and the Blue Flying Whales.


The M-word.

mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmystery.

Life’s not only very predictable, but boring at times.

Mystery may give us that chuckle we need in the morning, it may give us something to wonder at night.

It gives us that glint in our eyes when we smile, smile with that faraway look in our eyes.

And while strangers walk and talk, it heightens our perception of our surroundings.

We get caught twirling our hair, biting our pens oh-so-subtly.

I sometimes look over my shoulder slightly and spin around in my chair,

look at my hands, cross my fingers, lay them on my lap.

 

Sometimes the mystery is far from wonderful.

It is not delicate and whimsical.

It is scary.

It sends shivers up and down  my spine. The ones that turn out to be bad.

Mystery that makes me pull my legs closer to me.

Because I half-lied.

Life can be unpredictable.

And most certainly not boring at times.

 

It causes me to dream of blue flying whales, and grey grass.
And lay awake at night thinking of adventures and terrors.

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