|
The cat yawned as the stuffed bear continued to frown at him. Both sat listening intently to my speech. I told them that if I had been a rock, I would have pushed myself over the edge by now, but that I couldn't because it was my duty to save the frogs. The reflection of my lava lamp in the sword hanging on the wall reminded me that we have little time to spare before the invaders land and take us to be put in cages and glass tanks for their own amusement. As I pondered this fate, I looked into the flame of the candle and suddenly understood the meaning of life, why we are here, and how the universe was created, but the gears turning in my head trying to understand that meaning pulverized the thought like the destruction of a rock crashing down at the bottom of the cliff, thinking in its last few moments that what it really would have liked before its demise was some frogs' legs with ketchup. As the cat drifted off to sleep, life seemed complete, and he glanced over once more at the bear, unbothered by its scornful expression as the rhythmic droning of a monkey blowing across the neck of a 2-gallon jug lulled him slowly away from consciousness.
|