Tea with Wirmp

I took my rocket ship to the Sun. I arrived to the surface of the Sun and landed. I got out wearing my triple thick asbestos space suit.

I felt around for the door handle. I grabbed it and opened the door. I went in and closed the door behind me. Inside the Sun is cool and dark. It’s actually a little chilly.

I turned on a light. There was a small room with a table and two chairs. There was a note on the table. The note said, “I’m sorry, but I’m running 15 minutes late. Sincerely, Wirmp.”

Wirmp is the foreman of the Sun. He’s responsible for the day-to-day maintenance of the Sun. We have been friends since second grade. We have tea every Tuesday at noon inside the Sun.

I sat down on a chair. I like sitting by myself. It’s soothing. I don’t need a magazine, book, or a television. I enjoy my company.

Wirmp arrived as he’d indicated, fifteen minutes later. He’s honest with time. He asked how I was doing. I said that my foot was feeling better. He said that was good news.

Wirmp was holding two saucers which held two cups of tea. He set them on the table and sat in the other chair.

Wirmp told me about work. I didn’t understand much of what he said. But I like Wirmp and it makes me happy to hear him talk.

Cake!

I went to bed very excited. The next day was the Anaheim Cake Convention. I’d bought an all-day all-you-can-eat pass. I was going to get to the convention hall before 7am when they opened up.

I woke up early the next morning literally split in two. Two halves. Right down the middle. I had no idea how it happened. I tried to push myself back together but it didn’t work. I tried to get out of bed but both halves of me fell on the floor. I saw the value of having two legs in order to balance and support myself.

I was frustrated because I had an hour-and-a-half to get to the big event and things weren’t looking good.

Both halves of me managed to drag to the closet. One half propped up the other half high enough to reach and pull down a belt from a hanger. It took some haranguing but I managed to loop the belt tightly around both halves of myself. It took a struggle, but I was able to stand. Walking was difficult. I was terribly uncoordinated and weaved and fell five or six times.

Finally I figured out the proper walking rhythm. I grabbed my wallet and ticket and left my apartment and took the elevator downstairs. I walked out to the street and hailed a cab. I was so thrilled that I’d made it to the convention center by 6:45 and I was first in line!

At 7 the doors opened. The ticket taker told me that I couldn’t be allowed in with one ticket. I would need a second ticket since there were two of me. I explained what had happened. He called his supervisor. She said that she was sorry for my situation, but I would need to purchase a second ticket. I was upset but purchased the extra ticket and I was allowed in.

There were hundreds of booths featuring many varieties of cake. There was birthday cake, pound cake, fruit cake, carrot cake, angel food cake, marble cake, coconut cake, Bundt cake, coffee cake, ice cream cake, Swiss roll, upside down pineapple cake, banana cake, wedding cake, sponge cake, rum cake, devil’s food cake, Yule log, just to name a few.

I went to a booth, showed the person my all-you-can eat pass and asked for a slice of German-chocolate cake. The put a slice on a plate with a fork and handed it to me. I gobbled down the cake. It was delicious.

Because of my being split in two pieces, my stomach was in two halves, and the cake popped out of my open stomachs and plopped on the ground. I was embarrassed for a moment. But then glad because this meant I couldn’t get full. At last year’s convention, I could only each 19 slices of cake.

I love being underwater!

I can breathe underwater. I’m not a fish. I don’t have gills. I can swallow water and absorb the oxygen without drowning. I went to a doctor once and asked her how this was possible. She said she didn’t know.

Sometimes I swim underwater. Sometimes I walk. Swimming is easier. But sometimes I get tired of flapping my arms and legs and prefer the walk. I can’t walk fast underwater. There’s some resistance. But still it’s nice.

The longest I’ve stayed underwater was 18 weeks. I didn’t plan to stay there that long. I lost track of time because it was dark down there. I’m taking way down there. Spending time under a lake, you can only go so far down. You end up seeing the sun reflecting through the surface of the water, and you know how long it’s been. But I prefer spending time in the depths of the ocean. I bring an underwater flashlight with me because it’s pitch black at all times. Without the flashlight, I’d end up standing on some fish, or eel, or shark, and have to apologize.

While I’m down there, I do a lot of thinking. I think best under water. Originally I recognized this quality when I was taking a bath and my mind was filled with a bunch of ideas. I wondered if I would think of more ideas if my head was submerged. So I went under and had so many thoughts that five hours went by before I realized I hadn’t surfaced.

I tried this a few other times, but found he tub is restricting, so I drove to the beach, got out and walked underwater till I’d gone a few miles. Like I said, time passes when you’re on the bottom of the ocean and I came back to discover my car had been towed since I’d been away for a couple of months.

After a bunch of times traveling back and forth from home to ocean, and almost clearing out my bank account with towing fees, I sold my house and live primarily underwater.

I sleep under a forest of coral when I get tired. I eat minnows and strands of kelp when I’m hungry. I read underwater from plastic books. And I write on my computer which is safely encased in a transparent plastic bag.

Why do I come up out of the water? It’s a nice occasional contrast. Plus it allows me to get batteries for my flashlight and computer.

Oh well, part 72

I was feeling overwhelmed and got in my time-machine and hit the “Whatever” button. Pressing this sends one to any point in time by random chance.

I’ve often had fascinating adventures via “Whatever.” Recently there was my happenstance visit to the second day after the Big Bang. The previously propelled matter had taken a rest and was panting, after a vigorous day of being flung at full force. The matter asked me how come I wasn’t tired. I explained I was a future ancestor on a ricochet back in time visit. The matter nodded as if it hadn’t listened and went back to its panting.

This time around, the time-machine’s dashboard informed me I’d arrived to the year 6034. There were people milling about in translucent tunnels. There was a lot of bumping into and stumbling over one another, everyone in a hurry. I caught up with one of the people and asked what the fuss was about. He pushed me out of the way. I was curious and followed him as he traversed many miles up and down through the see-thru human Habitrail.

The tunnels suddenly widened four-fold as the man I’d been following came upon hundreds of others standing at the base of a gigantic flower. It was a two-story daisy, the air pungent from raining pollen. He and the others stood with tongues sticking out, air-lapping the plant’s golden dust.

I began to rapid-fire sneeze due to my intense pollen allergy. Suddenly someone next to me fell over. Then another. And another, including the man I’d been following. It was like dominoes. And not just fell over. They lay still, dead.

I looked back through the clear-tunnels and saw the person-avalanche continue on for miles. And then there were none left alive. I figured it was a like a reverse War of the Worlds where the interloper introduced a virus that killed everyone else off.

I walked back to my time-machine and returned to today. I sat down on my couch. I noticed dust floating in the air illuminated by the sun streaming through the living room window. I felt the wave of sneezes about to begin again and remembered I was out of Allegra.

Change of pace

I was walking along a path that traced the top of the mountain, when the mountain sighed and gave out, crumbling immediately to the ground. I rode the fall safely like a wave surfer.

I leaned down and asked the once mountain what had happened. The once mountain whispered, “It takes a lot of effort to be a mountain. For years I have strained under the constant effort. I’d had enough and radically disassembled. I’m sorry if I let you down.”

I said, “I’m alright. But I’m worried for you. What will you do?”

The once mountain said, “This.”

Adoring space

I stood on the edge of the cliff and looked out at the space. I love space. There’s nothing, but it’s something otherwise it wouldn’t have a name. So I looked at the space.

I looked long enough with mesmeration and didn’t notice I was leaning forward. Of course I fell. I fell fast. I didn’t mind because I was falling through the space I’d been and was still gazing at.

The space whispered at me as I fell through it. It said, “I like you.” “Thanks for noticing me.” “You’re kind of cute.”

Pretty soon I landed in a bush. I was okay because it was a springy kind of bush. I apologized to the bush if I’d caused it any harm. The bush didn’t say anything. I think that’s because it was okay. Or it didn’t feel like talking with me.