Meanwhile, down in the slave section

Down in the slave section, marmalade was browning...

FIXATION

“Spanish legumes; blunderbuss, blunderbuss.”

What are you selling now?

“Can’t you see?”

I’m not sure.

“Look in my eyes and watch my hands.”

I’m feeling dizzy.

“Concentrate.”

All I see is a big hole to fall into.

“Fixate on the center.”

Now what?

“Now you give me all your money.”

But I have none left.

“Then why are you wasting my time?”

I don’t know where to go from here.

“There is nowhere else but here.”

Am I doomed?

“As much as you think you are.”

Maybe there’s a way home from here.

“Home is where your heart is.”

ARE YOU NOT HERE

“There’s nothing to be afraid of here.”

Where is here?

“Here is where you are.”

They told me if I went through the door I would find myself here.

“Have you not then?”

I don’t feel any different.

“Wait a while, and keep on trying.”

I still don’t feel anything here.

“Then maybe you’re not here yet.”

But how can that be?

“Did you go through the door?”

All the way.

“Then you have nothing to be worried about.”

But they promised me I’d be here if I went through the door.

“You are here.”

I am?

“Where else would you be?”

I’m confused.

“Don’t be, be in clarity.”

Where do I find that?

“Look inside of you for all your answers; and relax, all is well.”

I feel dread.

“Stop looking for peace outside then.”

But I’m not looking for peace; I’m just looking to be here.

“Stop looking and you’ll find yourself.”

I’ve changed my mind, and I don’t want it anymore.

“You can never go back.”

I wish now I’d kept my thirty cents.

“Leg-over, leg-over, come get your leg-over.”

Now what are you selling?

“We have a nice line of leg-overs going cheap.”

How cheap?

“Cheap as chips.”

I want to try one.

“You’ll have to get in line.”

Where’s the queue?

“Over there.”

WIRELESS GRAVY

Creak of a creaky door opening, and then closing.

“Let us pray dear children so that we become productive sheep

In the machine of our temple we must pray at every day.”

I want my money back.

“Sorry, but we don’t give refunds. Next...

Come get your wireless gravy here.”

I want some.

“Sorry sir, but we’ve just sold out.”

That was quick.

“Only way to be sure of getting some is to order it beforehand.”

How much?

“How much have you got?”

I’m down to my last dollar.

“That will do nicely.”

You’re sure you’ll send it to me?

“Of course, just as soon as it comes in.”

Then I can sleep easy in my bed and not worry?

“Of course you can sleep easy, and don’t worry about a thing.”

I’m going to go now, and wait for it to come.

“Have a nice day.”

DAY 1825

Oh mother of god, protector of small frogs and admirer of the rain,

Goddess of destiny and wild in the wind,

I have reached day 1825 of this thing

And it is time for you to send more money my way and some inspiration,

And don’t spare the horses so that I can get out of here where I’ve fallen so low to carry on.

And if you send any messages don’t make them too secret

Or I may not see them, here where the endless flicker of the candle burns so low.

And if you see your son anytime soon then tell him to pull his finger out

And send me the things I’ve asked for because it feels like I’ve been abandoned here,

Given up on and I’m not well pleased with this;

And if this is a prelude to burning in hell under your brother,

Stoker first class number one,

Then I can only say your family’s too strange for me and I want my money back.

From a reluctant being and no great admirer: me.

P.S. or else, so get cracking.

Meanwhile, far away on a cloudy island...

Image from Pixabay

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