Tales from the Raven

The weather’s weirding outside, with scudded clouds and dashes of rain.  My head is weirded, too.  It doesn’t like the pressure change.  I walk like my heels are too high, and if I stand up quickly I sway.

So of course this has got me thinking . . . wouldn’t it be interesting if certain people could gauge human events the way my inner ear picks up pressure changes?  And what if, instead of them being taken in by an overgrown power conglomeracy, they kept this knowledge to themselves?  Or maybe, keep it within a small niche group somehow separate from the rest of society.  Like the Amish, or an ethnic minority deep in Chinatown. 

The light shifts across the ground, like so many shadowed hands groping the earth.  I watch the weather and wonder.