Harnett-Hargrove

i saw Ginny's car today. She almost hit me. i’m left trying to figure out what the heads up was about. Do you believe in that strange displaced channeling, when someone passing by says something off hand to you + it goes in deep? Or, vice versa, you just have to say something to a stranger as if someone else inside your head is forcing you? Bypass brave or cordial, you message what this person needs to know, needs to hear.
Well, i do.

“What type of animal is that?”
Ginny was a triple scorpio. The only one i’ve met so far. Known her + knew it, anyway. A breed that would be hard to miss. As it happened our determination took us to see prints from the John Lennon archive that were being sold at a posh gallery downtown. We headed out to take a long lunch break in the name of art. Simply beautiful drawings + lithos had been collected. Eventually, we came to a closed portfolio on a wood rack w/ a sign warning of the erotic material w/in. Always interested in the hidden, Ginny raised an eyebrow cocked her head, looked around + said, “This, we have to see.”

As soon as she cracked open the large folio six people zapped over like magnets to peer over our shoulders. i guess they were waiting for a Ginny to oblige their fear + interest. She flipped through w/ a running commentary.
“Okay ... not offended ... yet ... got it ... i could have done better ... what type of animal is that?”