Sometimes the universe doesn’t whisper.
It just shuts off the power.
This morning, I sat down to write—and the lights went out. Not just my apartment, but the whole block, maybe half of downtown. Suddenly everyone was outside, blinking in the daylight, talking to each other like we’d just woken from a dream.
Greg went and got us a picnic lunch, and we made the best of it, but I could feel my rhythm tilt. My thoughts scatt…