Back to back on one of those sofa/couch things
Miles Davis in the air
I like the funnies . . .
“Why are you here?”
Yikes
She's bored
She’s only dangerous
when she’s bored
‘I would think that is obvious
I’m here because I’m not all there . . .’
“No really
what are you doing?”
I hold up the paper
She is not pleased
“When am I going to get a straight answer from you?”
‘When you ask a straight question . . .’
“Seriously . . .”
‘Why don’t you go play with the animals
or the weather or something . . .’
Hands on hips
Now I’m in trouble
I put the comics down
Without seeing how the strange furry thing
is getting out of this mess . . .
I find the center and touch that place
that most people don’t touch
And pull a crack in the wall
The thunder of the rending startles her
and she is not happy with the dust
But I can see
this appeals to her sense of adventure
I step through the crack and wait
At length she shows up
with a flashlight
As though it would be dark here
"What is this place
Are we on Mars?"
'This is the place of This'
"This?"
'This'
silence
I find a flower in the debris
'As in *this* flower'
nothing
I pull the cover from a half finished canvas
Revealing a calm meadow
I point to the canvas
'As in *this* meadow
Why *this* meadow and not another?'
"Oh I get it
like one of those
*one hand clapping* things . . ."
'Crudely put
But yes'
She spends considerable time
(I use the term 'time' here loosely
Since technically we are outside of objective time)
She finds all manner of glass jars
with wonderfully articulated graphic characters
filled with the most exotic . . . things
The Tears of Eve
The Four of Thorns
A preserved unicorn horn
She finds all kinds of intricate devices
Covered with the most interesting schema
Some still powered and functional
A death ray gun complete with sensor
A pair of X-ray glasses
Secret decoder rings with glowing studs
She finds models of castles
Casting of dragon footprints
One of my favorite old songs . . .
She is getting tired
She sits on an ancient Greek column
I think it was Corinthian . . .
"Why did you bring me here?"
'Aren't we having fun?'
"Why are you here?"
'I am here . . .
I can't answer this question
to your satisfaction'
"Don't know why I should care
I don't even know why I'm here"
'Oh
That I can answer
You are here because you chose to be'
"What the freak is that supposed to mean?"
She turns utterly baffled
"What is the meaning of Life
What is the purpose?"
From the rubble I pull The Tome
(I keep it there for just such occasions)
Dust it off with a flourish
and present it to her
'You will know the purpose to Life
When you reach for this Book'
"The truth is in there?"
'In as much as it is anywhere . . .'
And of course she takes the book
"There's a mirror in here
Isn't there?"
'Technically no
Not in the sense that you mean'
She opens to the first page
Blank
As are all the others
"I thought this was the meaning"
'No the purpose of life is to reach for the book
To search for the answer'
"but I want to know the answer!"
'Absolutely!'
"You're not going to tell me are you?"
'I just did'
"What's the answer?"
'Exactly!'
Slowly the glow inside her spreads
As the Light dawns on her
"You are such an ass"
'I know'
"You want some lunch?"
'Sure
Do we have any of those pickle things
Your mom makes?'