Writer's Cramp, 10/17/22 |
“This is your mission, should you accept it.” I started paying attention at that point, between bouts of baying at the moon and staring at the ground. “We need four prunes to complete the ritual.” My life was a boring mess. I had been looking for any escape from the tedium. That weirdo on the corner offered a convenient outlet. “Find the fruit!” Before I thought too much about it I knew exactly what fruit he was talking about. Rumination highlighted the path. The clickety-clack along my mental track brought me to a new station. There I was, presented with adventure and a daring new purpose. It began in a store on a dark corner, hidden among the shadows of a bad neighborhood. I felt totally out of place yet strangely at ease. “Sorry to bother you,” I said. “I've been looking for prunes.” “How many and of what sort?” The old man behind the counter seemed amused. “The kind you hear about in stories of old, significant and irrelevant at the same time.” “Son, you think too much.” The door to the store swung open and in walked a young girl of the most incredible countenance. I was momentarily shocked and then felt a wide smile spread across my face. “There sure are a lot of dummies around here,” she said. I laughed but then immediately felt bad. I might be the next one that laser of awareness fell upon. Then again, she might be the next entity I judge too harshly. I was ready to dance. “Prunes are for folks who seek the truth.” It was the weirdo from the corner speaking. Behind that unshaven face and spastic actions a unique soul existed, expressing itself now, one last time, before the next cataclysm hit. Skippy spoke and the whole neighborhood listened. He twitched and shook a hidden piece of fruit from the ether. That brought the total to three. "He who seeks the prunes finds only himself," Skippy said. The girl and I left the store and walked in comfortable silence. Later on that evening a strange object appeared above the valley: a massive chevron-shaped ship in the sky. Its lights moved among the firmament like angels. “Do you believe in a world beyond?” The girl asked me. “I'm simply hungry," I replied. “That's good enough.” The forth prune was an amalgam of all those that came before. It materialized among the others with a goofy "bloop!" "I don't know about this story," I said, mostly to myself. "It's a weird one," the girl nodded. "I don't even like prunes," I said, grimacing as I bit into a piece of the mysterious fruit. "I don't even exist," smiled the girl before promptly disappearing. That seemed like a good indication that this odd adventure had reached its illogical conclusion. With once last glance at the sky, I sighed and began the long walk home. |