I have no evidence. I can’t prove my summation, but I know.
When I cast my thought back to the incipient moment, and travel along the path, I pick up hints, brief impressions. Call them assumptions.
But considering what happened, they were sign posts.
I have always been alert to my impressions. Call them psychic prompts, call them gut, but I rarely have misjudged. It is only when I squash those ‘warnings’ that I err.
Only when I attempt to justify, explain, do all those polite actions to sugar coat do I arrive at the wrong conclusion.
I am not young any more, I don’t need to make good impressions or be attractive or calming. So I need not take my presence into consideration when I view an incident, a person, or hear words.
Although what happened is shocking, for me it was an inexorable conclusion.