At the museum I wanted to straddle the mummies. At 12, I didn't know what the straddling would lead to, but it felt happy-dirty, like imagining french-kissing Jesus during services at Sacred Heart.
I still brush my hand up against the glass case when I visit the old man. What history, all distilled into a wizened form! If I could suck that up into me somehow, get wiser, I could make more money or at least not care if I made any less.
My aunt is dying and it makes me cry just a little, but it passes. Would that she could carry the same living meaning as a statue taxidermied in our hearts.
Saturday, December 22, 2007
~Thanatos by Rion~
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Nobody knew why Keith turned to wood one night sitting in the cab of his pickup outside the Rock 'N Bowl. It wasn't drugs, like the cops said. It just happened. Butch wanted to carve him up into a badass bong, but we all put a stop to that. I mean, it would have been killer, but it didn't seem fair to Keith.
Instead, we took the Snow White route, stuck him in a glass box, and hoped that one day, some girl would come along--knowing Keith, she'd have short, black hair and giant hips--and she'd kiss his petrified figure, or, I don't know, bang the glass with her handbag or something, and Keith would wake up, and they'd both climb into his pickup and drive off into the sunset.
Until then, he's a good conversation piece, and the Rock 'N Bowl has become something of tourist destination. Some nights I miss old Keith, though.
At the museum I wanted to straddle the mummies. At 12, I didn't know what the straddling would lead to, but it felt happy-dirty, like imagining french-kissing Jesus during services at Sacred Heart.
I still brush my hand up against the glass case when I visit the old man. What history, all distilled into a wizened form! If I could suck that up into me somehow, get wiser, I could make more money or at least not care if I made any less.
My aunt is dying and it makes me cry just a little, but it passes. Would that she could carry the same living meaning as a statue taxidermied in our hearts.
King Chut, younger brother of Tut, isn't nearly nearly as well known as his sibling. Chutenhamen ruled for relatively brief time for a Pharaoh, a mere seventeen days. Having a vastly limited budget, our local museum could only afford a lesser known Egyptian ruler mummy and so we bought Chut as a great discount. Yet, all were glad to add an authentic taste of Ancient Egypt to our collection, since apparently nothing completes a museum quite like a real-life mummy in a glass box.
No one is exactly sure why Chut died, although rumors and contrary opinions persist to this day. Some scholars references a 6th century text that claims that his demise was due to a dinner of poisoned figs. Others state that he had a heart condition. We may never know for sure.
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