Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Palming the Pints
“It was odd,” Harold thought, “what one could see in the palm of one’s hand.”
According to Mrs. Chitwick, who was his class teacher in 1968 at Laverstone Primary School, God had the “Whole World” in His hand. Harold had always been just a little bit disturbed by that and wondered how stable the world was. Was it like a cricket ball, hard and unyielding, or like a meringue nest? He hoped it was the former for he could imagine the temptation of crushing anything malleable all too well. If he were God he’d have closed his fist. At six years old, Harold thought about this so much it gave him a fear of meringue that remained unconquered until he met Jasfoup thirty years later. Ironic, really, since he later learned the Mrs. Chitwick had divorced her husband (who taught science) and become a Buddhist.
Now he almost understood what she had meant. As he looked at his palm he could see cultivated fields and valleys, rivers and mountain ranges and angels dancing the Macarena along his heart line, a tiny disco ball suspended from his middle finger.
He pressed two fists against his eyeballs, regretting that second pint Sam had bought him.
Bronze Sculptures by Chick Schwartz