Sometimes I feel like Cinderella, I want to be saved. By whom or what I don’t know. Maybe by a man, by a friend, by a stranger, by God, by myself. By the next thought or feeling or happening or view. By sleep, by death. Maybe all of that, or rather none of it. It seems the best salvation is that which is not needed. Or which is happening, all the time. Well, I know it’s like that. I just forget sometimes.