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Ron. Lavalette's Blog – June 2011 Archive (4)
SATORI
“And what did he say about the End Times,” they asked him.
He smiled and said, “He only smiled and said: ’The last of the day is of no note; the sun goes down, we close our eyes and remain in darkness.’”
Then he closed eyes for a moment, remembering The Master’s words.
Everyone could see the stillness upon him.
When he opened his eyes he was alone among them.
He knew that he knew nothing except that the sun was on the horizon, and he smiled.
Added by Ron. Lavalette on June 29, 2011 at 5:17am — 4 Comments
Alienation of Affection
Sometimes he sits up all night with his clients, trying to decipher their ramblings and making sure they don’t burn the place down.
Most of the time they don’t even seem to notice his presence, but occasionally two or three of them vie for his attention, either by soliciting his sympathy by feigning death or by threatening to poke out his prying eyes.
They don’t pay him enough for this, he thinks and—when he gets home just in time to miss breakfast and to kiss her goodbye—his…
ContinueAdded by Ron. Lavalette on June 28, 2011 at 2:30pm — 7 Comments
Looks And Waits
A look, he told her once, is the distance you can see down the highway before it disappears over a ridge or around a bend, provided that the bend or ridge is somewhere near the horizon.
But if the road, obscured by topography, disappears just a mile or half-mile away, he’d said, the time it takes to traverse these shorter distances is called a “wait.”
A wait is what you have to endure until you get to another look.
Driving west in the approaching dawn, she’d lost…
ContinueAdded by Ron. Lavalette on June 25, 2011 at 11:30pm — 3 Comments
Robert Thursday
Everyone, everything’s the same to him these days.
The man who brings him his coffee is the Creature From The Black Lagoon; all the cars he’s ever owned are in museums now; by noon, all the dead flies on the windowsill have revived, buzz around the kitchen sinkdrain and the massive, growing pile of trash in the corner.
He waits for the phone to ring, spends his waiting time staring at the meadow photograph on his calendar, now almost three months past.
When…
ContinueAdded by Ron. Lavalette on June 24, 2011 at 5:00am — 9 Comments
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