I’m prepared for anything. I’m prepared for the Man in the Moon to tumble thru the night sky onto my back and ride me thru the village like a wild stallion. I’m prepared for the reaction this will provoke in the locals. It will seem implausible to them and they’ll attribute my galloping thru the night streets with the Man in the Moon on my back to my hailing from parts unknown. It will confirm their suspicions and provoke them to ride me out of town on a rail, tarred and feathered. I’m prepared for that too.
You may ask why I came here in the first place. It has to do with spending my life in parts unknown until my sudden departure. This is seldom done, and always with dire consequences.
I am the first person to bolt from parts unknown and reach a destination. The others are perpetually underway, a state in which there is nothing to prepare for.
Imagine, if you will, how jolting it is to suddenly arrive. It is imperative to immediately assume the air of someone who has always been there. Otherwise you are pounced upon before you have a chance to get your bearings. The villagers are peaceful and law-abiding unless they have a sudden confrontation with the unknown, and then they turn savage. The unknown is not something they are prepared for.
And then there are questions of motives and recognition. What is it that drives some of us from parts unknown, and why am I the first to arrive? Where is it that recognition of this fact takes place, if anywhere? And how would such a recognition change things? And–are there other destinations waiting for arrivals?
I have no answers to these questions. I just know where I’ve been and where I’ve arrived. I have no recollection of the journey that brought me here, and I have a strong sense that there is no going back. I’m here now, in a village of strangers who do not know I’ve come from parts unknown, and I must remain prepared.