Short-listed

A sharp flurry of wings startles me and I hastily create a cage above my head with my arms, cowering.

"What are you doing?"

"Please don't hurt me."

"Oh no. I'm not going to resort to violence this time."

"You're not?"

"No. I'm too disgusted. How could you let this happen?"

"Well, gee, Archimedes. I seem to be asking myself the same thing" I respond acidly. My attitude quickly changes, and I bite my lip, looking up at him, "Should I be worried about this?"

Shaking his head he answers, "I don't know. I just don't know." 

"Should I just go with it and see where it goes from here?"

"Do you think that's wise?"

I give him my hopefully-maybe smile, "Maaaaaayyybeeeeee???"

"I'm thinking no. However, I think you need to prepare yourself in case it isn't." 

"Good point. Okay." After a pause, "Are you worried?"

"Yes. That's a pretty short list to make."

One inch of track

It's a gentle pull of a string, barely a twitch of the muscles holding a thread between the thumb and forefinger. The ripple starts out slow, a subtle quiver over still-quieter waters. It travels across continents with their restless young rivers and their ancient lakes. The miniscule vibrations of many individual fibers cleaving together travel their way down a series of synapses. It shivers and quivers where a seed falls, where new ground breaks under the plow, where footsteps travel there and back again. 

As it circumnavigates its pattern, its dither begins to quake. It's cloth becomes taut. The sinews bind and lock. They are sealed.