Sins of Omniscience

I don’t know why I didn’t tell you before. It must have slipped my mind.
Think of it as: What you don’t know can’t hurt you.
That is, until now.

But I could always back away, lose the train of thought, or hope for a sudden change of topic like the wind dropping to a standstill right before the storm.
Nothing stirs in the eerie silence. 

Or was it looking into the eye of the hurricane? Everything flying this way and that way and, then, whap, stuck face-to-face with an unexpected lull. Why even the sun breaks out for a moment.

You know how to fill those lulls, no hemming or hawing, just like in the movies where you’d have no idea it took them two-dozen tries to let that pause curl up and die.