I finished the transaction and grabbed the basket with a few jars of canned fruit and veggies.
We walked through the little booths and trucks that had gathered in the middle of the dusty plain. I only glanced at the goods and food on display. Some looked interesting, but I knew the basket would be my only purchase this month.
The truck Jimmy wanted to show me was at the edge, near the solar panels and charging stations.
(Note – I read the book “blind”, that is with no idea what it contained. I wrote the essays immediately after reading, so they are first impressions.)
Today I want to do something just for fun. Before I go on, I need to warn you that there will be some spoilers in here. Maybe not the biggest ones, but spoilers none the less.
Bleak House is written by two different pens. Well, obviously it was one, Charles Dickens, but he wrote it from two different points of view. One point of view was first person from Esther. She several times mentions that she knows that it is “her part” of the story she is telling, that is, there is another writer, but she doesn’t know who commissioned her to write, or even if it was a male or female.
So, who commissioned her to write and who did write that part that is in third person?
OK, I understand Dickens might not have had anybody in mind, he just wrote it the way he wrote his other third person narratives.
But what if he did have a person in mind? Even if it was subconscious…
Let’s pretend that there really was a mysterious person who commissioned Esther to write her part but was also responsible for the other part.
I’m not the type to relax on the beach, and I would never think of sleeping. I might sit for a minute and people watch. I might even read for a few. But relax? No, relaxing is walking or swimming, or exploring or, well, just about anything in the world other than just sitting. Sitting on a hot beach was my personal idea of Hell on Earth. The idea of sleeping on a beach was repugnant.
Imagine my surprise when I woke up.
Of course it took me a moment to establish were I was, and then another moment to recall sitting down to dry after a quick swim. How had I fallen asleep?
I have no idea why it took me so long to realize that the beach was completely empty.
I drove home, that self-righteous voice narrating my way.
He would mutter his “’Morning” and paid no attention to me after that.
And then yesterday he snapped when I dared walk into his office!
Seems to think he can do everything by himself? Fine. Let him cross the Styx by himself.
Imagine my surprise when I got home and found the single rose and the note apologizing for his behavior as he finished his super important project at work, the note that promised a special second honeymoon where ever I wanted to go.
Another day, another dozen old buildings. A lot of them were called “castles”, some “towers” and then there were the ancient manor houses, though anything newer than 15th century was right out. This struck me as strange since most of the restoration jobs made these places about as authentic as Disneyland.
OK, I’ll admit, my sense of romance had worn a little thin after the first dozen. As I entered, my first thought went to lack of indoor plumbing and how cold and damp they must have been. Brrr.
And let’s face it, it wasn’t just the castles. I had lost the romance over pretty much everything in life.
What did they always say? One of us hairless apes needs just water, food, clean air, shelter and clothing to survive? Something like that? And what do we do when all of those things become contaminated?
I think they also used to say “man does not live on bread alone”, but, you know, that’s pretty much all that is needed to survive.
There was a rumor that one town survived the collapse and continued on as if nothing happened. After Mark was murdered for a 15-year-old can of green beans, I went in search of the modern-day Eldorado.
I kept my treasure close, a real-life paper map, printed a decade before the collapse.
There was a red “X” on one town.
I’d find it.
Three months, at the map’s “X”, I saw a glow on the horizon. That was it! I hadn’t seen such a glow since the collapse.
The next day I found the recently burned-out husk of my dream Eldorado.