Advent of absence

Because I’m the man of the house I have a very special relationship with our garage. That’s because the garage has odd manly smells and dark secrets. And because I’m unemployed now I can lose myself there for hours.

In the circle of life the cat craps in the sandbox and the dog digs it up and eats it. My beard has grown so long that when I fluff it out it gives my face the shape of a crude weapon or tool, blunt at the bottom. The tides of time have gone out, and the beach is now bare. I await the coming of nothingness and all it affords.

It could be like that tiny cottage outside of Bath we rented one week in the winter. The soft shades of morning coming through the candlelit windows and the quiet stillness extending from a time well before I was to a time well after I’m gone, the sense of an over-riding peace and certainty, a place where there’s always room for me. It could be like that here in our home in mid-October as the days begin to slow and the morning takes its time coming on, then doesn’t do much once it does.

We can curl up with our cats and blankets and books and reheat yesterday’s soup. We can light the fire and while away the hours, it’s thick like maple syrup, with lots left in the jar.



Categories: microblogging, prose, writing

Tags: , , ,

16 replies

  1. That cat poop bit, a little too vivid.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Are the odd many smells and dark secrets a comfort or unease?

    Liked by 1 person

  3. “I await the coming of nothingness and all it affords.” Great drawing up there, too

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thanks man, the drawing is from a “art of Harry Potter” book Lily borrowed from a friend with tons of luscious sketches and paintings like that. Weird time of the year to not be working but man I’ll find a way to savor it anytime. Raining like hell and I’ve got a blanket and the candles going. Life is good, wishing you same.

      Like

  4. Too many years I’ve been away from this loverly pink light-sabre. Gotta correct that mistake, that misalignment.

    I, too, stopped on, “I await the coming of nothingness and all it affords,” and read it over and over.
    Such openness in this post. Such quiet. Such stillness. Such rich nothingness. Evocative. Lucious and thick like belonging—like love.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Ed Brummel! What a joy to hear from you again and such a lovely comment…thank you and yes, happy to have you pop by whenever you’re able! Hope you’re doing alright, my friend. Bill

      Like

  5. I’m intimidated by our garage. It has tools used by my grandfather, my father and occasionally (and badly) by me. The place smells like all the man-things I’m crap at.

    When you’re lost in there, is that a metaphor?

    Liked by 1 person

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