The blessing bowl and the fear XXVII

Door San Daniel gepubliceerd in Verhalen en Poëzie



I refound my balance and looked at the tap in disbelief. It first started to drip and then slowly to flow normally again. Yet I no longer felt the urge to hold my hands under that particular tap. I chose a sink that was far removed from the 'voices sink.'

In the mirror I saw that I looked pale with big frightend eyes. I forced myself to hum and, as if it were a mantra, I managed to blank my mind. I walked to the air dryer and before I walked back to the restaurant I took a last look in the mirror and to my satisfaction I was myself again.

"The food has just been brought," my sweetheart said, and I was delighted to look at my pulled pork plate. The restaurant was rectangular in shape and a mega-screen hung on every wall. Your eye was drawn to it unintentionally. There was a rerun of the Antiques roadshow and while enjoying the delicious pulled pork I followed it with half an eye.

"You might think," the expert said, "it's just an old bottle, but what would you say if I told you it was 13th century?" "Goodness me," exclaimed the old bent woman, "from the year thirteen hundred?" "No," said the smartly dressed gentleman with the bow tie, "older, the 13th century began 1 day after the year 1200." "Yes, yes," the female muttered, "and you can see that?"

"With certainty,' the expert smiled, he arranged his bow tie," the glass is impure, "he continued and held it up to the light and slowly turned the bottle between his fingers. "It comes from the Venetian workshops," he said thoughtfully, "the color, tells it all."



He placed a monocle before his right eye and looked at the object with even more attention. "Wood-burning furnaces do that," he said, "the Venetians imported raw materials such as glass chunks and enamels, in this case I suspect trace elements of lead."

The old lady was listening breathlessly and I just remembered that I shouldn't let my pulled pork get cold and my fork found the way back to my plate.

"Hmm," said the bow tie expert, "reminds me of Angelo Salerno's work, but that would have been more sophisticated."

"Gee', my dear said, 'from the thirteenth century, that such a thing is not broken. " These were wonderful moments, simply without worries about demonic bowls that are compellingly trying to control your life.

"What would it be worth," my sweetie asked me. "I had no idea and said," What a fool gives for it, but it's old and that will certainly count. "

"£ 35,000," said the roadshow expert, "whenever you want to, you can auction it, old glass and specifically the early Venetian, has its value." "Oooh," the old lady screamed and put her hand over her mouth. 'Who would have thought that'!

"Would you sell it," my dear asked? "If I needed the money," I replied, "but it is also special to have something from the year 1200 or so."

The camera now went to an art expert who was admiring a painting with great attention. "Typical image," said the man, "early Christian Pilate's work." The man who had brought in  the piece looked silently at the expert. "What does that mean," he finally asked.

"Pontius Pilate, condemned Christ to the cross," said the expert, in haughty voice, "but he realized that Christ was innocent, and washed his hands in a bowl because he did not want the blood of Jesus on him."



The camera now zoomed in on Pontius' hands and the bowl that caught the water that the servant was pouring out over his master's hands. My fork froze in midair. The bowl was enlarged and enlarged and I saw what my love saw. She looked at me in dismay, "that is..," she said, and I finished her sentence, "I know," I replied, "it looks like our bowl."

"Looks like," the gravel voice sounded in my head, "looks like?" A rough laugh echoed and a drum beat sounded between my ears. "The anti Holy Grail," the voice mocked, and was followed finally by two more drum beats.

San Daniel 2020

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09/02/2020 22:09

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