Smiling at the Impossible

With a few published articles on the open op-ed page in Richmond, Virginia's weekly Style, I was eager to continue writing but labored at it with none of the joy I had found earlier. My job as a security officer at a large IBM site in North Carolina was perfect for thinking because it was mainly second and third shift hours, but I never had any human contact and I missed that. The only word I could summon up was 'stuck'. Everything seemed at a standstill.
Until one evening when two friends, a guy and a girl, who jogged after work together through the long endless halls of the connected buildings, waved as they passed my site. This became a habit, and eventually evolved into a chat as they took a short break from the exercise.
One night they noticed I had the Writers Market in my lap and discovered I liked to write.' Of course you should try blogging', one suggested.
And I did. Improbable events, but not impossible.