So it’s well after midnight, and my dear wife has awoken more than once to alert me to this, as Total Dingbat Kitty with the big paws snuffles and snorts his way through sleep in the plush pillow valley between us, and the chipped wine glass sits cold and empty in the air-conditioned computer light fading just beyond my arm’s length. And out there in the grand vastness of all, the world is still turning, presumably, around the sun. Though it’s hard to say for sure, what with it right now being dark and all. The great light source may instead have simply gone out, and we on this big wet ball of punctured sky and floating plastic are left now only with darkness, forever more, amen.
I am a man given over to evidence, and thus altogether uncomfortable falling back on mere faith that the sun will once more bubble back into the sky in a few hours. and we’ll all heave forward on the hopeful wings of non-impending collapse, and things will keep circling along in their predetermined paths.
So, y’know, yippee.
If there is a point to all this after-hours babble, I know not what it might be. Except, methinks, that I might like another glass of wine …
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Funny how wine makes the impression that science has not already provided plentiful evidence for that light/heat ball showing up again. But then, wine & spirits are, apparently, fueling a certain part of the population to think that Mr Business Hair has all the answers … that he doesn’t want to share, lest someone steal them … like it was some test in grade school ..
My suggestion? More wine, more sleepy kitty, more writing…
Author
It’s the difference of knowing and well, knowing. I can’t really even blame the wine; there hadn’t been much of it. I’d been watching a lot of great first-season M*A*S*H reruns on my laptop, with my cool little faux-starlight generator (Lisa bought me it for Christmas) spraying constellations across the dark ceiling, and I actually thought: Y’know, I wouldn’t really mind if this night kept on going …
And that, as they say, was that.
what I’m thinkin is I could feel how it was to be awake at that hour and in that sitcheashun, and I appreciated – not to go so far as to envy, but most definitely to appreciate – that there was no hurry to end the whole event. no rush to force oneself into, or (probably not) back into, slumber. on the whole, there was a freedom-giving behest to how you worded it. and, liking freedom, I liked all that behested it. thx. or should I say “like” , heh