And so it happened. He was stuck. Could not proceed. Unable to move on. Obstructed by an insurmountable obstacle. In a pickle. Stuck

The situation was thus: he was on his way to the store, and as usual he locked the door upon exiting his domicile. After having turned the key, however, he found himself having forgotten which pocket he usually put it in. Left pocket, right pocket. It had to be one of them. He’d done this hundreds of times, thousand, always placing it in the same pocket. Today, however, for some reason, he simply could not remember

He stood there a long time, paralyzed, perplexed

The fight was on. He needed a win. In fact, he had needed a win for a long time. But his opponent – relentless, indefatigable, sneakier than two foxes on velvet sheets – gave him no quarter. This time, however, he was sure he had it. A grand plan that would set things aright, one moment of triumph amongst so many moments of defeat

Unsteadily, he wobbled towards his nemesis. Not five steps into this heroic wobbitywabbity did he turn around, surrender himself to gravity and fell back onto the bed

The nominal nemesis, sensing another opportunity was at hand, taptaptapped onto the addled heap of a man, whose fever delirium expressed itself in mumbles about fighting and winning. Nemesis, not one for fighting, curled into a ball and purred at the extra body heat

Something tapped at his cheek. It was a gentle, lingering touch. Then it faded. Then it came again, only to fade once more. This process repeated itself a multitude of times, increasing in pressure ever so slightly each time, every iteration bringing his that much closer to awareness. With a slowness that would make scientists of an empirical bent question whether it happened at all, he regained consciousness

At long last, he came to the realization that it was, in fact, the rising tide that poked and prodded him. “I don’t mean to impose, but I am the ocean”, he thought wryly, and at long last got up

He was well and truly, completely, utterly, unequivocally, irrevocably and irrefutably stuck. No matter how he thought about it, looked at it from another angle, rephrased it, kicked it around conceptually, or tried to divine it using easy to reach occult means, the stuckness remained. He mused that this must be how Faust felt right before entering into bargaining mode

At that very moment, a gust of wind blew open the window. Strangely enough, the only thing that seemed to have been moved significantly was a book, which lay open on a very peculiar page

Cautiously looking at the page, he slowly nodded to himself. Yes. This was indeed it. The thing that unstuck everything. “Is not chance and accident the bearer of the greatest gifts?” he thought, before proceeding

She had practiced and rehearsed the role for weeks. Months, now, she realized. Soon, the big moment would be upon her. Soon. But not quite yet. There was still time for another round of rehearsing, practicing and going through the routine. Just to make sure it would all come down perfectly. These hours before going live would not be wasted!

Just as she thought that, a would-be well-wisher dropped by, to offer words of encouragement. “Good luck”, he said, not knowing better

“How could you say that in front of кошка?” she exclaimed, half in, half out of character. Truly, this was not going off to a great start