Dave: There’s no town drunks here we just take turns.

Sometimes it seems to me our small universes are made out of words. See, words get pulled together into assumptions or beliefs that tell us what to see and what not to see. You know, “I’ll see it when I believe it.” It’s like “Make America great again”, means we are flawed and they did it and I will fix it. No questions they say, hinting at a capitalized Natural Order. Maybe God and Mrs. God or their neighbors make these universes or tie together what maybe we made out of our fears and desires. Universes made of fears and desires.

Then came thunder. Mamamamafestaproclaughinghublerumbledadadalagaug harrumphkummelbarstonbumblerumbetumbleboooomboombom! The light softly flickered brighter. The thunder rolled, rolled rohhlled.Humblebumble rooom booomlaughandrockrollddeeplybroomsweeepweep!Thunder rolled, rohhlled fading. And darkness arrived pressing light away and the forceful pressing made light flash lightning. Lightning. Bright. Dark. Dim dim dark distant rohhllan rummmmbllle. Distant. Silent.

We sat watching.

Then slowly light presses into our darkness. Pushing upwards a trapdoor lid of dim dim dark out of the floor. And reddened light brightened with orange and rimmed with paradise blue appears, pressing the dark. Then laughter belly body laughter lighter thunder inviting, but inviting what? what? Meaning is flying and laughing is filling the space and there is no apparent reason. And out of the opened floor door ascends that laughing man. We are startled but laughing with him laughing at his laughing. He walks over to face us and laughs at us laughing at him in this after-thunder-colored ambience.

“You don’t know who I am do you?” he says, his laughter snuffling around his question. “I am Dr. Metamorphostopheles. I’m new here. There’s going to be some changes made. But tell me, first tell me, what’s the Word?  I mean, I mean what’s the Words?”

 

 

 

 

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