The leaders of the silent majority were, in this case, unrecognized; the best intel found them having just departed around the time you wondered aloud where they were. This brought tears to the loyalists eyes, although it may have been the preponderance of onions. You knew they had been there by the discarded skins rustling around your feet… everyone deserves a moment with those who wrote the principles they chose to live by – 4 seconds of fame – such an act of devotion impels unity and the kinda nonlocal intimacy comes of hearts and minds in alignment.
|K after a 20-mile race!|
Yet the antagonists are always gathering like clouds and forcing the separations – an end to to the aforementioned sunshine – and the fading vibrations become absorbed in rugs beaten over handrails in city streets and back alleyways. Rugs are beaten publicly, of course, as they are well known to be taken out upon, in these lands.