“How could they do this to us?” everyone wants to know. “How could they take this away from us?” Yes, I wonder the same things, too. However, I also think with a smirk what might ensue concerning a certain Starbucks, a certain John Perkins, a certain Mighty-Joe, & a possible Ficlets Revolution.

I turned to look out the windows. I’m met by a poignant sight: everyone I know sharing tributes, venting anger, exchanging contacts, tying down any last ends. I sigh, a fond Irish blessing on the tip of my tongue:
May the road rise to meet you,
May the wind be always at your back,
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
May the rains fall soft upon your fields,
And, until we meet again,
May God hold you in the hollow of His hand.

This is definitely not the last you’ll hear of me, but I figured I’d write a tribute just the same. If this ship does go down, until we find another home, I’ll post on my blog: http://writing-wrambler.blogspot.com/

Paz, amor, y esperanza,
_~g2 (lpi)