Sunday, January 22, 2023

15,991. MY HANDS WERE AT THE BOTTOM OF THE SEA

MY HANDS WERE AT 
THE BOTTOM OF THE SEA 
'Hell, I thought this was supposed to be a vacation?'
It was, but I little knew it - it was more like a Sensodyne
splurge in deep space. So. I began wondering what it
could mean if I had to speak the difference. They both
were in many respects, except to say that one had no
air, well, that would beg the question. Neither did, and
so I felt the same about that. Whatever air is or is not,
the absence of it immediately alerts the mind and body 
of the trouble about to come.
-
Ask any fireman what the worst contingencies are
about entering a blazing space, and they will clue
you in. Stay low? Not really good enough.
-
I was able to find no connection between the two; one
relates to Earth alone, and the other only to space. So
that put an end to that speculation.
-
Diving and SCUBA and bathyspheres and all that stuff
never really thrilled me; but I did it this once just to go
alone. Nevis and St. Kitts? What the heck was that. Some
nasty port of call along the boast of Haiti would be more
like me. It was like 'Why not visit Hell, since I've lived
there already, and Heaven seems like it could be a bore.'
It's funny actually, because, back at home (in Hell) my
travel agent along Rt. One had said to me: 'You should
never go where you don't want to go. The world's too
big for that.'


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