“Tell us about a time everything fell into place.”
When I saw today’s prompt, I thought it would be an easy one. Things fall into place all the time with a satisfying clunk. They do for me.
My car engine works, my wifi connects, my fridge yields ingredients, my family come home, my writing is commissioned and, a few times, my ovaries even came up with the goods.
Thousands and thousands of times life worked out – things fell into place. But I can’t remember any of them. Not really.
Instead anecdotes are built on the few collisions, confusions and catastrophes – effort and energy expended on variously avoiding or resolving the problems. The tidal wave of success is simply accepted and forgotten.
You might think I would call upon you, dear reader, to pause to give thanks every time perfectly browned toast is propelled upwards or an aeroplane lands safely, but I won’t. That would simply add sanctimonious and smug to ungrateful.
I could bemoan the lack of falling into place the words of this wise and witty pay off are doing, but I won’t.
This post is part of #NaBloPoMo and inspired by Vonnie’s prompt.