It is very early in the conventional morning,
and you are up sitting in the older brown chair in the quiet of the living
room. Carol and the others are sleeping. – Amorella
0050
hours. I like this kind of morning; it is though I am in a tomb both ancient
and modern; one in the same. Space is appearance alone and time is not a
consideration. Space, in fact, is a part of my own dimension, not the other way
around. I might as well be in a museum existential, one that collects no dust.
Movement is not a consideration. I am a tortoise first recognizing my own shell
– consciousness shelled out and unbound in an extent of thought unbridled, semi-clothed
by an undetermined non-thought. I am a tomb both ancient and modern. I am an
appearance in space and time. I am unshelled – matterless matter content in
being a dust of contention unsettled.
Words leak from such tombs do they not, boy?
– Amorella
0111
hours. Evidently. Now if I could reduce my above to a word I would be better
off than on. The word ‘tomb’ gets a bad rap.
** **
tomb –
noun
a
large vault, typically an underground one, for burying the dead.
•
an enclosure for a corpse cut in the earth or in rock.
•
a monument to the memory of a dead person, erected over their burial place.
•
used in similes and metaphors to refer to a place or situation that is
extremely cold, quiet, or dark, or that forms a confining enclosure: the
house was as quiet as a tomb.
•
(the tomb) literary death:
none escape the tomb.
ORIGIN
Middle English: from
Old French tombe, from late Latin tumba, from Greek tumbos .
** **
0118
hours. I am ready for bed and a return to sleep from this pleasant interlude.
Friday
evening. This morning Paul took everyone to breakfast at Scramblers near
Polaris Shopping then you stopped to see the land under development for senior
living. Once returned to Kim and Paul’s you packed up everything and headed to
see Andy about your investments. Things went well and once home you unpacked,
fed the cats and were off to the grocery. Home for the news and light supper as
well as a couple DVRed shows before the present. Carol is catching up with the
newspapers. – Amorella
2102
hours. I’m about ready for bed. I need to get back working on chapter eleven.
It is ridiculous how much writing time I waste.
The books are not as important to you as
they once were because you thought you might make a personal discovery or two
to make this thirty-year habit worthwhile. – Amorella
2107
hours. So it appears, but there is more to it than that.
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