Miraculous Escape

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I’ve had one or two miraculous escapes in my time. 

> Oh Lordy. 

> Just when I thought I was all washed through, that the game was up, I think it was The Most High who swept home and chaperoned me to a fresh beginning.

> They were serious situations, what I was snared in, life or death.

> On one occasion I was paralysed to my bed reading the bible, it kept swaying me from one state of aftermath to this or another remaining end result, success or failure, win or lose, live or die, whatever, destiny hanging on every word. 

> When the scripture was harsh with me, as it so often can be, I ploughed on and waited for a passage of mercy; which, thankfully, came.

> Other times I’ve been lost in woods, sodden from swimming across canals, nearly hit by trains, you name it I been there, from one perilous position to the next.

> One time someone had a blade pressed against the back of my head.

> A Mossad soldier.

> I can’t thoroughly recall, but reports are that I disappeared into thin air.

> When I was dying of an asthma attack I magically found a Ventolin inhaler which saved my life.

> It seemed to appear out of thin air.

“I love it when mental patients escape” 

> Classic opening line.

But not as much as a miraculous escape.