The blessing bowl and the fear XX

Door San Daniel gepubliceerd in Verhalen en Poëzie


I certainly did not want to go to the bright blue light that fell out of the open door, and certainly not when I recognized my neighbor's voice. But just as my wrist had poured out my coffee, my legs refused to obey me. I wanted to turn around but again I did not dare to stand with my back to the light and I struggled with forces that lured me and my ego and the rationality that forbade me to continue. The rhythm of the drum slowed down and now and again and then grew stronger and then weaker as if carried on the wind. I knew what would follow, the murmuring, it was always like that.

The drumming won over me and I gradually shuffled towards the light. The drumming stopped for a moment and I heard my sister's voice above me, she asked someone something . "Hey," said my sister, "can you hear that?" The voice that answered was my voice. "What do you mean," I asked. Good God I was in two places at the same time, that couldn't be true. But I saw my workshop door come closer and I knew for sure that I was in my basement.

"No," thought my rational being, "no and again no, it has nothing to do with where I am, it is like abstracting and pasting words over images, it is about the concept of a cellar, this is done because of me in cellars . " I looked up and saw neither the hatch under my sister's kitchen nor the stairs that would lead me upstairs. I was in the basement  as a concept, and against my will I was taken somewhere by something demonic.

It started to get warmer around me and I was pulled forward to that warmth and when I almost got to the door I got a silly thought. "I could do with some sunglasses," the basement began to deform and became granite. With the greatest possible effort, I held back and even managed to walk a few steps back. The granite disappeared and I was clearly in an old cellar again. That only lasted a moment, I heard a deep breath coming after me and catching up and so I quickly stepped forward again. " Just with my luck "I thought ,"the dark one will come forward from the shadows again and then do someone in.' That was the last thing I wanted.



Now the granite became more rounded and the drumming had grown in strength. I walked into what was slowly becoming a cave and at the end on the right hand side I saw what had been a door, slanting open on old hinges and bright light was being cast in. My last sensible thought when I stepped through the door was, "A cave is a cellar and a cellar is a cave, both dark and gloomy," and then I stood in the light and it engulfed me and blinded me and I only heard a murmur that seemed to come from afar. I could not make anything out, my eyes had to get used to the warm bright light. "There you are, you see it wasn't that far after all, now was it" my neighbor's voice said, "now you are at the intersection and that is what it is all about."

I was being shaken hard, "wake up San," my sweety said, "you only moan and you only utter cries and nonsense. She turned on the night light and I came from far away from hellish bright beacons and cave vaults into my safe world. "San, just look at yourself," she said, "you're soaking wet," you have to clean up first. Do you want some water? ' So many words at once, so much care, but the images, because we do  think in images, were still etched in my soul, they did not evaporate to dissolve into meaningless fragments. I had been at the point of intersection whatever that might be. "By the way," said my sweety, "who is the black woman you keep shouting at." Someone very scary, "I replied, and I noticed that my pyamas were indeed sticking to me.

San Daniel 2020

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10/01/2020 20:17

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