THE INQUISITIVE ONE COULD FEEL that it was time. The i.o. was still having multiple health ailments involving celery, worms, and mushrooms, but, still, the inquisitive one could feel it. It was time.
The inquisitive one went on Amazon, searched for a large urn, and chose one with detailed artwork in the style of Ancient Greece. The i.o. selected the option that said “Free Shipping in 5 Minutes” and clicked “Place Your Order.”
“OH, THEY’RE EARLY!” the inquisitive one said, 2 minutes later, when a delivery truck backed into the driveway.
Three men emerged and hefted a very large package, bigger than them, from the back of the truck. They had to take off the door frame to get the package in the house. But within a short amount of time, the door frame was reinstalled, the men and the truck were gone, and the inquisitive one was the proud owner of a very large urn, with detailed artwork in the style of Ancient Greece, located in the center of the living room.
WANDERING AROUND THE HOUSE, the inquisitive one began to pick up objects and place them in the urn. A few of the i.o.’s favorite books went into the urn. A few of the i.o.’s precious stones and favorite wall decorations went into the urn. The i.o.’s laptop went into the urn. The i.o. wandered outside, chose a few potted plants, brought them inside, and placed them into the urn.
Next, the i.o. put the career into the urn; it was dense and heavy, a large and ugly rock. Then the i.o. collected, from their scattered-everywhere locations in the house, the relationships with family, friends, acquaintances, and strangers and put them into the urn; some were sharp and dangerous to pick up, others were oddly shaped, some were smooth but hollow inside, and others had other strange features. Next, the i.o. searched everywhere, for a long time, and finally found the dating and love life and put it into the urn; it was amorphous and, to be honest, a stringy, sticky mess.
The i.o. opened up a new jar of peanut butter and scooped it out and into the urn. The i.o. peeled six bananas and tossed them into the urn. The i.o. brewed a cup of lemon and mint tea and poured it into the urn.
When all of this work was complete, the inquisitive one hopped into the urn, curled up, and fell asleep.
IF YOU WERE TO PEER into the inquisitive one’s front window, at this exact time, you would have seen a lovely display of Ancient Greek artwork. You could have enjoyed the viewing of these scenes of gods and mortals, war and beauty, for many hours.
But then, you would start to notice, marring your view of this artwork, little caterpillars crawling over the tip of the urn, and wandering hither and thither upon the outside of the urn. (Little caterpillars, you see, had come into the urn along with the potted plants.)
And if you continued to peer into the window as dusk came over the land, you would notice more and more caterpillars, crawling around the urn.
And if you spent the night there, by the window, waiting with bated breath to see what you could see when dawn broke, you would eventually be astonished to see, as said dawn was breaking forth over the land, in the place where the urn had been, and taking up the entire living room, an enormous, white, silky cocoon.
Maybe it’s the use of an urn in the story, but this post is freaking me out. Are you okay?
LOL yes I am fine. š
Now that’s what I call a large part of an extended epic simile! Perhaps the ancient phoenix does something like this when it is time to be reborn. I want to know what comes after . . . I’m expecting an “Even so . . . I . . .”
Carolivia, I knew you would have special insight into this one…. š
Well said! I think were all waiting for a metamorphosis of sorts.
I loved your description of relationships and the career. Very insightful for all of us!
Thanks, Liza! You do have an amazing imagination.
(I’d like to echo Mel’s question- you are okay, aren’t you?) Please call me anytime you need to talk.
Hi Jean, thanks! Yep, doing fine. š