ensky

This morning I started to read Ocean at the End of the Lane while riding the bus. I was losing myself, just about to fall madly in love with the little book, when the bus ride ended and I had to get our for work. In closing the book, something fell out, but it wasn't my bookmark, which was still there. I got down and searched the floor, and saw a brightly colored green and blue card sporting an exotic and eldritch-looking symbol. It wasn't rectangular like a playing card or index card, but square.

This is a point of departure. At this point, I could tell you what really happened next, or I could make some shit up that I find more interesting. I'm not telling you which way I will go.

There was more writing on the back of the card, but I didn't actually register any words, as I was also trying to get my book back in my bag, and exit the bus, and already my work-brain was informing me that there were e-mails to compose and cells to feed and DNA to mutate. So I just slipped the card back into the book. Then a pipe fell from the construction guys working on the side of the building, and there was significant pain, and blood, and then not much until I woke up beeping in a hospital bed at St. Mary's feeling very nauseated and with a strong sense that my head ought to be hurting, but wasn't. Or maybe more like my head was hurting, but I wasn't feeling the pain. Then I vomited, and as I blacked out again I clearly remember being very embarrassed, because some nurse was going to have to clean it up.

See, that's not very believable. Because why would I be blogging about that if it happened just this morning? I certainly wouldn't be in any condition to write, if i was on a bunch of painkillers, and I don't even have a laptop to write from a hospital room, and I am certainly not going to write that much on my phone. Take 2:

There was more writing on the back of the card, but I didn't actually register any words, as I was also trying to get my book back in my bag, and exit the bus, and already my work-brain was informing me that there were e-mails to compose and cells to feed and DNA to mutate. So I just slipped the card back into the book. I went upstairs to my desk, and had just about sat down when Dan asked if I could mutate some DNA for him, because his first attempt didn't work, and blah blah blah excuses could I do it for him? Sure, Dan. And there was a call from the vet upstairs about one of the cats - please call him back.

hmmm. still unsatisfying. Ensky means to exalt, pronounced like enthrone, not like Penske.