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Naturally that was one of those days when Jill worked the morning shift at her job, meaning I had to retrace my drive to recover the keys.Other demands on my time kept me pinned down for a few hours before I could get to our apartment.While in college, I began carrying around a notebook in which I entered the type, time and situation that involved the coincidence. Jill had gotten a part time job a couple of months after we settled down in a fairly decent apartment about a half hour's drive to my job.The half hour would become more like an hour once the cold, dead hand of winter took hold of the city.

This work still incorporates sex and violence in rather plentiful amounts, but now is dominated by coincidence, the nexus, and brief encounters with the supranatural.The opportunity to take a leak was overwhelming and so into the bathroom I went, and happened to glance into the waste basket by the toilet at what proved to be a condom sitting on top of all the other trash that would normally be found in such a place.Worse yet, upon closer examination I ascertained that it contained a goodly amount of the white stuff, not yet dried out.Like most people who are burdened with the need to make a living, there is precious little time left for silent contemplation except for those few minutes one spends on the porcelain throne in the morning or whatever time one's bowels choose to move.Strange as it may seem, my moments of contemplation focused on coincidences. Little did I realize that my harmless hobby would soon take over my life and drive me in directions that I could never have imagined.

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