Semi-Daily Scribbles

A rock with a chip on her shoulder was told to slow her roll. The teller at the cloud bank was very clear when she told the rock what happens when a pebble or a boulder works its will and shapes its fate and forces fortune into a constrictive definition. The clear and concise message conveyed by the teller to the rock was: Nothing.

"A division much higher than mine is in charge of Plans Revealed and Destinies Fulfilled," the teller explained to the rock, "and they adhere to bankers' hours. My advice to you? Make minutes meaningful and bind them with a sturdy thread. The people upstairs like that sort of thing. It shows them you won't knock down just any old door. Patience now, yes?" The teller at the cloud bank then told the rock to go home.