The writing was on the wall. A divine scribble in an antique hand. A 90 degree diatribe on the merits of being born, being withstood, understood....sleepy and alone. Bluebirds died and returned in rainbow formations. Spread disinformation as poisoned seed. Weeds grew to a timeless rhythm, but I heard the words as they slid into my head. I felt the dread dissipate...over time.