Stubbornness has always run in my family. At every turn, we’ve always turned back and tried again. This has not always ended well, lots of effort has been sunk into goals doomed to fail. And yet, occasionally the persistence pays off.
I’ve wondered at times if there is a system to it, of if the universe is just random.
I know it isn’t rewarding the “pure of thought” or “pure of mind and body” because some of those who succeeded were clearly scoring low on those scales. I mean, “chicken racing”? Really?
And “frog jumping”? Again, really?
Especially when after setting up the contest, you rig it by feeding iron slugs to your opponent’s frog. Just to win a bar bet. And then when caught red handed, you parley that into an annual event?
Some kind of strange clumsy dumb luck is clearly at work, there. Failure leads to failure, as odd stepping stones through the swamp of failure to learn, failure to succeed in industry, and failure to buy property that isn’t nearly all swamp.
My history has taught me a few lessons. First and foremost is to have a way handy to adopt a disguise and slip away. Given what the Fates clearly have planned for me, I am rarely far from pieces of a disguise.
It started innocently enough.
A few pranks, a little harmless fun.
Next thing I know, we are scattering to the four winds, running and hiding from the angry mob carrying pitchforks and torches.
The had taken the innocent events as evidence of something larger, and decided that burning the unknown was their best course. The unknown being, of course, us.
It didn’t help that we had also held ourselves somewhat aloof from the locals. When it came time to light torches, there was no one in the mob willing to risk their own lives or safety to defend us.
That night amid the fires and the hangings I realized that I had to disappear.
And so I did.
I have never returned, at least not in the form I was known then and there.