Karma

Karma is a sneaky little bitch.

It is not loud.
It does not come running into the room frantically waving it's hands over it's head, screaming at the top of it's lungs.
It does not announce itself nor does it explain itself.

That's not karma's style.

Karma slowly comes out of the dark corners and hides behind every shadow, waiting.
Karma creeps up on you and wraps itself around you, as you merrily go about your business.
Karma is there, silently plotting, knowing that from it you have no escape.
Somewhere along the way we grew to believe that karma is in our hands.
Only we call it something else.

We call it revenge.

We've grown to believe that we have the power to right all that has wronged us,  simply by wronging back.
Foolishly unaware that all we have done is added our name to karma's naughty list.
No one is immune from karma's biddings.
 But not everyone knows that.
All the better for karma.
All the easier for it to bite you in the ass.