What good luck, the neighbours said. Maybe, she said.
One day there was a storm and one of her big trees fell on her car. Smashed it right into the pavement of her driveway. It was a write-off. The neighbours came to share their condolences.
What a shame, they said. Maybe, she said.
A week later two brand new cars were delivered to her driveway. The insurance had come through and paid out a fair bit more than the first car was worth. Now she had a regular car and a convertible. The neighbours congratulated her.
What great news, they said. Maybe, she said.
A few months passed by and Violet took her convertible for a drive. It began to rain and she tried to put up the roof of her new car. All the fiddling about caused her to veer off the road and hit a pole. She was taken to the hospital to treat minor injuries and they thought it best to keep her overnight for observation due to her age. The neighbours heard.
What bad luck, they said. Maybe, she said.
The night she stayed in hospital for observation, the neighbours heard a loud bang and rushed to their windows to find Violet's house fully ablaze. Investigation revealed that there had been a gas leak from the tree falling incident, which had ignited by a spark from one of her appliances. The house was destroyed. The neighbours rushed to the hospital to tell Violet the news. Your house is gone, they said, but you were here safe, in the hospital, with no injuries, how wonderful, they said.
Maybe, she said.
(inspired by an old Chinese Taoist story via Michael Frost)
