Choices

"You look like your brain is working hard," Sheila observed. Melvin nodded. "Every road is a forked road before 8am," he explained, "and I feel the pressure of choosing wisely." Sheila chortled. "Well, what's to the left?" "Fiber," Melvin replied (with a sigh of resignation). "And, to the right, fisticuffs." "Wow," Sheila responded (caught off guard). "That's a choice." "Yep," Melvin continued. "It's not exactly about right and wrong, just ... what's going to get the day moving at the right speed." Sheila sipped her coffee and waited; she knew what she would pick.