the lost man chronicles
39. a fall from grace

grace under pressure. there are few greater qualities to possess than the agility to finesse a solution.

seemingly, it is a trait that got thrown out with the consciousness of clothes, a degradation abetted by today's woeful mode of convenience.

granted, there is the risk of a certain vacuum of integrity when people are all too concerned with the upkeep of appearances, but scratching beneath the surface does not always reveal such vacuity. gleaming polish can also gleam prospective quality that lies underneath.

(sigh) to our general dismay, it seems that today the refinery for mankind is all but closed. finishing schools, manners, books extolling etiquette are all but obsolete, leaving age and experience to compete for the few and finer prospects who exhibit some shining potential.

there are few left who can fall down and get up again without a crease in their britches or who are apt to blame no one but themselves. taking a deep breath, the legendary champion does not bitch about who, what or why, but simply knows that she must try harder again.

mistakes are to be made on the sublime path to success, there truly is no less difficult course there. and combined with our proclivity to err, any woman who is willing to try is bound to look foolish more than once.

but the secret to earning the awe, esteem, respect and odes from others is when she has her druthers and great reason to cry—she chooses not to. instead she sighs, smiles and shakes a conciliation, knowing that what may seem like a fake gesture will only empower her to win next time.

the grace of falling .38 previous chronicle the beginning next chronicle 40. a rich man's dream

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