My worlds violently collided in the last couple of weeks when I learned from Boz that Tom D. was having outboard issues.
They are my very best friends but, and despite living within about a mile of each other, until the fateful collision at both individuals' favorite superette only saw each other at officially sanctioned Teaparty functions and after-functions.
Boz was here a couple of weeks ago outfitting us with his throwaways - a new tower and laptop that for him are Jurassic but for us are sweet new computers; thanks Boz! And so it was that, in the middle of a conversation as typical as any over the last 25 years, he casually mentioned that Tom D., following a successful outboard tank test, was unable to reproduce a similar result in an actual lake. The words washed over me like ULF waves and I was instantly nauseous contemplating the enormity of the moment's significance.
I don't really know what happens now. I just know this bell cannot be un-rung. Imaginary boundaries existing only in my own head have been crossed. "Tomorrow" is an enigma.
In other Worlds Colliding news: They're chanting "Hide your beagle, Vick's an Eagle" in Philly.