a bit of wondering

He set out to do something and wondered if he could persuade others to join him to engage in atrocities and bad things funded by the bitcoins he luckily received as payment for all the shoveling he did yesterday afternoon on the organic carrot farm.  That got him thinking on the nature of luck and happenstance and chance and he wondered what all the coincidences in the world meant and if they could be calculated by a mathematical genius.  And he wondered if he would be lucky enough to find such a genius to make such a calculation and if that genius would accept bitcoins as payment for his services.

signs

The sign flashed obnoxiously in the dark alley, the only sign of its kind. Neon orange and tubular like so many other neon signs.  It seemed to advertise something familiar, something that all neon signs try to sell.  Something he once wanted but never quite had.  Something from his youth maybe or even a more distant past such as a past life.  He wasn't sure exactly but what ever it was, it caused him to stop and stare at the sign blinking on and off until it wasn't blinking anymore but rather commanding him according to its advertisement and with each blink repeating the word, "drink some carrot juice".  He opened the door below the sign and walked through slowly not sure of what he'd find.  Once the door closed behind him he stood in the entryway staring much like he had just stared at the sign wondering if there was some other meaning to what he was seeing.  Tables and chairs and people in the chairs with their arms on the tables everywhere while the people were going about their own business conversing and such with one common denominator amongst them.  They all had a glass of carrot juice, neon orange just like the sign outside.  He wondered if he had made a mistake by entering.  Maybe this was a meeting of a close group of friends or a cult of some kind, he thought to himself.  He wasn't sure what it was but he felt like he didn't belong and that he shouldn't have gone in at all.  He wanted to escape before they noticed him and were not nice to him as he assumed they wouldn't be because groups of people are never nice to outsiders.  Shifting his weight from one foot to another as he prepared to leave caused the floor beneath him to creek so subtly but it was just enough of a disturbance in the flow of conversation and drinking and general on-goings that everyone stopped what they were doing to notice him at the entryway.  As if mimicking the neon sign that lured him inside everyone offered him the same words of the sign, "drink some carrot juice".  But when they said it, it seemed more like an invitation as opposed to a command and as it turned out, they were all very nice.