Today, the doorbell kept ringing, but I forced my butler to remain incapacitated. I shut him off earlier (he’s a battery-powered robot), because I didn’t feel like hobnobbing with incessant visitors.
As the soft sound of “ding-dong, ding-dong” kept filling the air, I stared at the ceiling. I was a little too distracted to begin any new woodworking project, but I was too riled up to descend into dreamland myself. So I turned on my computer and began to read historical accounts.
After a few minutes I grew annoyed. I tossed my computer into the waste-bin and pressed the red button labeled “incinerate”; then I strolled to the kitchen.
There was no food in any of the cupboards, but that didn’t bother me. I decided to walk outdoors and recline beside the stream. This is the same stream of clear water that is spoken of in all the most classic poems.
Soon a fawn trotted out of the nearby forest and began to graze next to me. She eventually slunk down onto the ground by my side. I nudged her gently with my elbow and whispered: “Are you asleep?” — She didn’t answer. I could hear her faintly snoring.
Now the enemy of existence, the Devil himself, came out of the forest and stood before me and pointed to the fawn.
After a moment, I said “What can I do for you? She’s napping. Go ahead and speak; but, please, for God’s sake, temper your volume.”
The Devil said quietly, “I don’t know what to do anymore! All the rulers of the world who are supposed to be pupils of mine are in fact brazen maniacs. I’m not even comfortable doing bad deeds anymore — this is all very frightening to me; for I was trained in heaven.”
I nodded slowly and calmly, without making an expression that would betray emotion in any direction (I try to avoid siding with either good or evil, because I’m not sure which team will win), and, after a while, I patted the grass on my left — the place where the fawn was not currently reposing — and said: “Lie down here. I think some rest will do you good.”
The Devil hobbled over and reclined with us on the ground and immediately began to slumber.
I myself remained awake yet wholly relaxed. With either hand, I comforted my comrades: I smoothed the fur of the fawn with my right; and, with my left, I smoothed the slick black cape of the Devil.
Then I began to sing “Silent Night” with the original German lyrics (“Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht”), despite the time being midafternoon. — It’s considered a popular Christmas carol.
And that is all that happened in this memoir.
4 comments:
O, to sleep, perchance to dream! (only VERY faintly snoring;)
Despite not entirely sure which team to bet on, all things considered, it's definitely hard to not at least have a great deal of Sympathy for the Devil in this one! (he's obviously going through difficult times these days, with his disciples fighting so fiercely to outdo their master)
Ah I'm pleased that you begin your reply with a quote from your castle-mate Hamlet! And yes, I, too, am torn between the Devil and this deer. I love the Devil instinctively; but I also have a soft spot for innocent animals. I'm attracted to writing that seems like it might be an allegory but stops short of fulfilling the official allegorical prerequisites. Maybe I should call it "weirdness for weirdness' sake". (It strikes me now that I might be a realist.)
Being a realist, is the only real thing you can't do.
Dear Anonymous, that might be the best compliment I've ever received; thank you! It brings to mind this line from my friend Walt Whitman: "Let them dance on, while seeming lasts! (O seeming! seeming! seeming!)"
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