Today’s song came by way of a cat. He went out through the pet door from the MBR, crossed the patio, came in through the living room side door, and then walked around behind me, greeting me as I came down the hall from the MBR.
Whipping my head back, I asked, “How did you get here so fast?”
He flicked his tail once and sat.
I nodded. “Everything you do is magic.” I knew, of course, that it wasn’t magic, but quantum walking. Cats are adept at walking through universes from one to another, turning up at odd times and places.
That simple phrase, though, invited the stream to begin “Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic” (The Police, 1981).
I need to watch what I say.