Things go wrong. Soufflés fall. So do airplanes. Sometimes the girl you like wonders why you never ask her out. Sometimes you do ask. She says “no.”
Sometimes you fart in church.
Sometimes you marry the wrong person, but at the write time.
Sometimes spell-check fails you.
This issue of Prodigal’s Chair reflects on the idea that “The best laid schemes o' Mice an' Men. Gang aft agley…”
Change lives in the space between “wrong” and “right.” When we say or do the wrong thing, we present ourselves with a chance to learn and grow. Or – if we’re too blind or stubborn – we give someone else the motivation to grow through our intractability.
This issue shares poems, pictures, essays and stories about saying the wrong thing at the right opportunity, about the wrong person doing right, about how notions wrongly preconceived led to scales falling, about the consequences of trust wrongly placed. If you have said or done the wrong thing (who hasn't?), then this is the right place for you.
Sometimes you fart in church.
Sometimes you marry the wrong person, but at the write time.
Sometimes spell-check fails you.
This issue of Prodigal’s Chair reflects on the idea that “The best laid schemes o' Mice an' Men. Gang aft agley…”
Change lives in the space between “wrong” and “right.” When we say or do the wrong thing, we present ourselves with a chance to learn and grow. Or – if we’re too blind or stubborn – we give someone else the motivation to grow through our intractability.
This issue shares poems, pictures, essays and stories about saying the wrong thing at the right opportunity, about the wrong person doing right, about how notions wrongly preconceived led to scales falling, about the consequences of trust wrongly placed. If you have said or done the wrong thing (who hasn't?), then this is the right place for you.
Header art by T. Guzzio. Original photo by T. Jean.
