Monday, January 28, 2013

And a tall bearded fellow shouted, "I come to you at the turn of the tide!"

A sweaty man in a badly fitting short sleeved white shirt rushed up the long aisle-way to the front of the cathedral. As he ran, huffing and puffing, The alter at the front became visible. The orange box gleamed in a dust-speckled single shaft of sunlight. Reaching the alter, the congregation gasped in suspense. He mopped his brow and re-pocketed the sopping wet handkerchief. Carefully, cautiously, and with all care and gentle dexterity he hovered his fingertips over the edges of the bright orange detergent box. An old man cleared his throat distracting everyone terribly. A moment's pause to refocus himself and with a whip of his wrists the box was turned exactly 179 degrees to reveal the bright letters spelling out "TIDE." 

The man turned slowly around as the magnitude of this magnificent feat donned on him and his bodily functions like pulse rate and breathing returned. A gentle applause crescendoed throughout the cathedral. Whistles and shouts soon joined in. 

The sweat-stained man began to raise his arms and a triumphant grin appeared on the pasty white face of his shiny white head gleaming in that dust speckled single shaft of daylight. 

Just at this greatest of all great moments of relief, triumph, and success, the terrible joke fate had waited to spring, suddenly sprung. 

The detergent box shuddered ever so slightly, and then dropped exactly two inches into the alter on the trigger plate positioned with precision planning on the part of ancient detergent nuns thousands of centuries ago. 

The audience gasped as an aged old lady let go of her walker, covering her mouth with one hand and pointing a rickety finger from the other at the suddenly wide eyed sweat-stained man standing now in a shadow at the alter of the cathedral. 

A single feminine, "Oourp." escaped his thin lips before the 13 ton boulder quarried from the mountains of Carrara for the well known sculpter Michelangelo which was stolen by the nuns and replaced with a cheap secondhand boulder that happened to have a David in it- completed its freefall from ceiling to floor.

The bottom half of the boulder, the sweat stained man, the orange box, and the entire alter disappeared as they were driven instantly into the center of the earth by the top half of the boulder wich remained silent in a single shaft of daylight. 

An old man's stomach grizzled out one of those winding growls that swizzles its way around the entire stomach wall several times before bouncing around in the intestinal tract for a few lingering gurgles. Everyone pondered a moment longer the meaning of what they'd just seen. Then all at once everyone of them stood up, put on their coats and went home to eat. 

And that was the turn of the tide.

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