So… what if I’m trying to do my morning writing, and “hands across the planet” is suddenly more than a slogan for an international non-profit? What if it is more than a dawning reverie of something resembling a sex life? What if I’m attempting to craft a morning missive, even a rambling reminiscence about something recognizable to other humanoids in cyberspace, but in fact… the hands across the planet are slowly meandering their way up my thigh? What if this is real, and not a dream, and not imagination?
And would I tell? And would you know?
No reflections. No thoughts. No factoids.
No clarifications. No musing. No words, for now.
Perhaps this evening. Perhaps tomorrow. Perhaps eventually. For now, perhaps I’m busy. International diplomacy is calling.