Once every somewhile, an inkling of how things might have been. A glance at a fragmentary mirror, glimpsing into the possibility: I have always imagined that destiny’s hold was not so tight on us. It could have happened in another way, even the things that are meant to be. Perhaps, in my thinking, a different shuffling of the deck would not have turned the world upside down — some dreams that are not could have come true, and some dreams that became real might have stayed mere figments. The balance of the world is more a feel than an infinitesimally precise metric. Somewhere, God winks at us. Sometimes, why is merely a passing fancy.