One day, when was living, a half century or so ago, in a rather desultory area of San Francisco, a friend out of no where wanted to go visit the North Bay, my former home. So said yes.

We drove across the Golden Gate Bridge, and got a flat on it. A friend came and got us, returning us to my dwelling place. It was there that I found out the police had been called.

A fellow tenet had tried to enter my room, with a gun. Since was not there, he tried getting in through an outside window, where he was seen and reported.

A one time acquaintance in a similar rental situation had been shot dead a week or so earlier.

Fate plays a trick with a twine, and weaves the evil and good in one design.