That Tuesday I Saved The Universe With My Junk

That morning, without warning, the toilet seat refused to stay vertical. Down the street at the four-way stop, all four drivers executed a four-way tie flawlessly, without hesitation. For three hours, no one at work messaged or called me, causing me to make test calls and send unnecessary messages just to confirm both were still working. I remembered all my passwords all day. The power went out for 23 minutes in broad daylight without even the hint of a breeze. The girl scouts ignored me when I walked into the grocery store. My favorite hot sauce of 20 years was disappeared from the store shelves. As darkness fell, I swear the waning moon waxed. Entirely unsettled, I went to bed that night 99% sure the apocalypse was imminent. At 2:30 a.m. the toilet seat descended like a demonic draw-bridge-guillotine and as I lay writhing on the floor in horror and pain I heard the familiar sounds of screeching tires and angry horns down at the four-way stop and realized suddenly that the universe, as it occasionally does, had merely required a humble, yet not insignificant, sacrifice to set that wobbling ol’ existential gyroscope spinning once again with a mighty pull of its cosmic string.

Copyright 2014 by Robert R. Mitchell

This was free. My novel is cheap: http://www.amazon.com/Only-Shot-At-Go...