Sometimes the intuition fires, and sometimes it doesn’t. Like, you’re squinting and squinting at a thing, trying to bring it into focus, and eventually have to give up because there ain’t no way you’re going to see through that fog. There’s a path here somewhere, but the fog is so thick that you’re convinced that, this time, it won’t ever actually clear.
That maybe, even if it does, so used to the dimness have your eyes become that you’ll doubt even what’s right in front of you, in plain sight.
Amy Holt 