Currently listening to: Chris Thile - "On Ice"

It should not have happened that way.

If there was one thing Erika knew, that was it. Certainly, they would all, at one point or the other, attempt to impress exuberant explanations of all sorts upon her. It was meant to be, they would say-- one thing causes another, all relies on a butterfly. Or it's all in the hands of the blasted bunnies and running mice; have it one way or another, they were wrong.

Erika wandered and wondered but repeatedly found herself at the millesimally singular conclusion. All her claims of acquired wisdom, of returning, of ever being instrumental in the development of their lives-- they were solely that.

The truth was--- she did not know. All the refulgent beam had yielded was there should have been no initial collision, and she should have never been, and she shouldn't be. Here, there, and everywhere.