And, the girl laughed because she made a small error in her breathing exercise;
but, she kept her rhythm and regarded the incorrect exhalation as a ‘wrong’ key struck on a piano.
“I must keep to the tempo. What matters is the playing, not striking the ‘right’ key.”
She turned to the cat, Dinah, to see if she agreed.
Dinah had noticed nothing; and, this made the girl giggle harder and wonder:
Who is the pet and who is the master?
The girl had been thinking about thinking.
Dinah was being.
And, the girl wonders, if she cannot trust herself, why should she trust her mistrust of herself.
Then, she realized she was figuratively
asking a seashell for a sermon
instead of admiring it with determined purposelessness.
WrittenCasey 