Walking home... (GM)

I raised my head and looked around after reaching a distance by which it was time to stop walking by the compass, and start walking, specifically, home, and found myself in familiar territory.

The logical way home was a route with much memory; I decided to retrace my steps...

Walking up the hill where I delighted my gf dancing and twirling her jacket, and then around the bulk of the hill by its corner to the road home, I was forced to pay more attention to the terrain than last time... and I began to wonder.

Her sister that eve had already decided that this was to be a night where the twain were nae at each others throats, and the skip home from the base of the hill, and subsequent slow soaking of my back indicating that perhaps these cutest of gasps were not from the jostling of that region of her torso which held her lungs, made me begin to wonder...

...was the hill dodged in its bulk not for ease but to prevent the long skip down it?

::sigh:: It's odd, being the lost party in the politics of others; such queries are a small part of the sense that there was much surrounding and involving me which no one saw fit to inform me of... I have no idea if it was better that way.

...a part of me wishes to ask. A part of me finds it politically better not to.

...but how odd an existance to be in, to be neutral and clueless whilst other people dispute what one can do to one, both careful not to inform the one being done unto.

::sigh:: The exact terrain and dynamic of said politics does explain the shift from abject bigotry to mixed feelings, both positive regards and discomfort simultaneous, however...

...nonetheless, I shall cease the pestering of you with my reflections, and muse upon them elsewheres...

...perhaps someday I shall figure out what all happened... 'till then, I must thank her sister for a night of truce betwixt them.