I dunno what this is, what it’s for or if it will continue. But for now – here it is. If you want more, tell me.
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We’re all around you. I don’t mean that to sound creepy, or anything, but it’s true. You have no idea how many of us there are. Hell, you don’t even think we exist at all. Which, mind you, works in our favor enormously. It’s so much easier to hide in plain sight when everyone thinks you don’t exist in the first place. It’s like, I could hang a sign around my neck and declare myself you the world. Wouldn’t matter. No one would believe it.

Within reason, of course. I mean, there are limits. That’s why we do keep things fairly low key as often as possible. Hell, back in the sixties, one of us (and no, I won’t tell you his name) even became famous for making up stories about us and telling kids stories. They were all true, in a sense, and untrue in a lot more, but it worked. It kept us sliding into the realm of the impossible. The more impossible we are, to you, the easier we have it.

The best part of it is, for me, that you do most of our secret keeping for us. Sure, you hear about bits and pieces: a mother lifting a car to save her child, someone who seems to catch fire for a second but suffers no harm, a guy who survives a nail through the skull, someone goes skydiving and lives despite their chute not opening. You chalk it up to incredible luck, adrenaline, whatever reason you can hang a hat on rather than look the truth square in the eye. And we thank you for it.

Look, let me tell you a story. I was walking downtown, heading back to work after lunch. Nothing out of the ordinary there. I’d stopped at a hotdog cart, after spending my actual break looking to see if the bookstore had any copies of a kid’s book my son wanted. No luck. So I walked down the street, my tie tucked into my shirt, hoping mustard wouldn’t drip and hit the shirt, even though I’d removed the chances of tie stains.
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