Well, that was embarrassing. And yet, why should it be? Am I not a modern being, capable of admitting not only to feelings, but – on the rare occasions that necessitate it – fault? Am I not enlightened, at one with myself, turned on, tuned in?
No. No, I am not. If there was a burrow somewhere on the benighted premises, you would see nought but a flash my cotton tail as I disappeared forever. But, though I furtively examine the corridor walls, nothing so comforting presents itself.
Architects of evil lairs are so hidebound in this respect.
Without the option of hiding myself away, there is really nothing to do but take a page from the cats book, put a bold face on things, and pretend that this was the intended result all along. No, that will not do. The cat has already indicated, in his perspicacious comment, that he and the shark are well aware of what happened, and do not consider it worthy of discussion, let alone mockery.
We are, as it happens, running for our lives, which might explain their lack of concern, but even so. If they can see my bare soul, and not be repulsed then...perhaps I, too, can look into the mirror without shame.
Indeed, it would be a poor showing, after so much honesty (however inadvertent) to retreat back into comforting falsehoods and masks. Having taken the step forward, I find myself obliged to take another, and then another after that.
The way before me leads to lands unknown, both metaphorically and in actuality. Yet even so, I find myself moving with a lighter step. Bring the future what it may, I shall confront it with my true face, unalone and unafraid.