Moments and Co

There are moments in life that, when stumbled upon, unwittingly and without method, will suddenly pounce on a person without much regard to their present surroundings and put - for instance, my good audience, a child, poor unprepared and confused persona that it nearly always is - in a formidable and yet purely theoretical headlock. What am I speaking of? Why, I am speaking of that moment that lacks the decency to simply bump elbows with you and will instead follow all impulses and urges (a manner of which will quickly be manipulated to make you, sir or madam, act in kind) to the extreme boundary of sanity, over which it will flounce, tripping the youngling with a quick cloven foot and slapping the innocent in all the hypothetical senses that do (and have yet to) exist! In this moment, child, you will leap out of the slippery white ceramic tub in a single reckless bound – with no other thought in mind except to snatch a towel in that brief remembrance of modesty – and rush through the undisturbed household with intense purpose and undaunted excitement. Open, type password (“opensaysame”), lean forward with an exaggerated look of wild animation- eyebrows fit to fly off the youthful and exuberant countenance, features tight with what could almost be called apprehension but for the after-taste of persimmons, fingers ready to type all genres of inspiring fiction and revolutionary literature of which will reign over the next generation’s bookshelves for millennia to come (if we last that long) and move lovers, vegans, and many thousands more to an emotional brink - a luring cliff, if you will - over which thousands have already fallen and met with Reason himself. Writers, poets, questionable characters and responsible interns will not find a dearth of knowledge in your encyclodepiaic-sized books – nay, the annotations that will in time crowd their color-copied margins will be referenced to as of infinitely wise and cordial and moral lessons, amendments in themselves, their small question marks hiding meanings and symbols so deep that only the earthly friends underfoot, patrons of our gravediggers, will in the end know their endless levels and shifty layers. Pastors, rabbis, priests – no more will they recite the Bible; nay, sifting through the pages of the Qu’ran in search for specific truths to vague questions will be a thing of the reverent past! Even the youngest of siblings will know the answer to the grandest of all inquiries before they begin their four-year sentence of the most stolidly depressing years of school: high sch-

Poof. The moment has passed. The page remains utterly blank but for a blinking vertical line and twelve taunting, indescribably unforgivable characters: “Next time, eh?”

- Moment, by: Anonymous