I really love it when this happens. I’ve just discovered a trap door underneath the rug of the story, so to speak. It was always there, I just never realized it. I can see a little of where it leads from here and it seems pretty exciting, though not without danger, and part of me wonders if I might not be better of leaving it be. I have a hard time with the unknown, though. ;)
Interestingly, and perhaps a propos-ly*, this seems to be far more true of my writing life than my professional life. Perhaps because of it?
* With apologies to my grandmother, who will certainly give me what for for not thinking of a proper adverb.