Moxie

Suppose—one of my favorite games—suppose you threw out all the paraphenella of your conventional life, all strings and tethers, all familiar places and stepped out into strangeness?

Suppose you listened to a savvy carnival barker and entered the House of Mirrors where you watched yourself become elongated or shortened, where your mouth stretched and neck developed folds and folds of flesh?

Suppose your language died and you only understood the play of your hands and fingers?

Suppose you were Abraham called to leave the places you knew—corner store, coffee shop where they baked raspberry scones every morning, the emporium of curious relics from the decades of your childhood?

Suppose you were called to leave everything and go to an unnamed place—a spot of geography that hadn't even been whispered?

Abraham had guts. Call it what you want—as far as I'm concerned he had gumption.