Imperfect Timing
On pretty much the final night of Winter 2015 I was taking off my ugg boots before bed and the sole ripped right off the left one.
It was such perfect timing. I was going to write a journal entry about it, but I'd shut down my computer only seconds earlier.
Anyway, this was months ago.
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The woman with the fake tan stepped into my office, sat across from my desk and lit a cigarette.
At least, she would, sometime in the next 20 minutes. Smelling the future has advantages, but precision isn’t one of them.