Just Because

Arthur was rolling back and forth on the expensive persian rug, rolling as if he was bound hand and foot. He had a look of intense concentration on his face.
He rolled to the right.
Elizabeth walked past the living room where Arthur was now rolling towards the left.
She watched him for a moment.
"Why are you doing that? Arthur, why are you doing that?"
Arthur rolled to the right.
"Because it feels good," he said, biting his lip in concentration.
He rolled up to the feet of the antique coffee table, then started rolling to the left.
Elizabeth began to cry.

The Degradation of a Dysfunctional Mind

As I lay there thinking of stars I glanced up into the bright daylight and saw a phoenix. It was brilliantly colored in subtle shimmering purples and oranges and when the light hit it just right it threw off a reflection that looked like the aurora.

Some things aren't meant to be salvaged, I suppose. Maybe this day was one of them. Sometimes things go and things come and you have to play the hand you're dealt, I'm sure. But past that I don't know if there's some larger scheme to things. Is there a destiny? Do we choose what we do and what actions we take? If we do not, why would it matter? I suppose that's a better question.

Stars are tricky. You can't look at a star directly. It tries to hide in your eye, right where the optic nerve connects. It fades out into a little invisible speck, and right when it thinks you've looked away it shows up in its full glory.