Icklings

Lately, my comfort zone has become  rather uncomfortable. It is like that guy whose car broke down in the middle of the road. He knows very well that it is only a manifestation of his own negligence. However, the strangers pushing his car—assisting him in restarting it, do not have the slightest clue. They are genuinely concerned, unaware of the fact that he does that on a regular basis.

For him, it is a comfort that there is not much chance of their meeting him again. Thus, he qould continue to recieve the sympathetic assistance. Even if they did meet, he can always pretend to not recall them. That would be pretty easy.

What if the helpers found each other some day?
The comfort zone is growing pretty uncomfortable.
Told you, didn’t I?

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