jruit :: 12



You've got to admire a housefly. Just as soon as I opened the bathroom door to get a flyswatter, it took the opportunity to escape! I just like that. Last night a little seven or eight year old girl maneuvered herself so she'd be sitting close to me on the opposite side of her adjoining table. I simply ignored her for the longest time. Finally, out of a sense of not having anything better to do, gave her about six or seven jolts of jruit from the left side of my spine, and went back about my business devouring lamb chops, broccoli and potatoes.

Suddenly something grabbed by attention. I turned and looked at her. She was fixating me with her attention, gazing directly into my soul from the crystalline palace of her own. We gazed at each other, taking in each other's silver kaleidoscopic openness, until I turned away. The child always wins.

She went to the restroom, behind the kitchen, and when she returned, she'd adopted the emotional cover-up of a mother, sort of a combination of mindfulness and control, revealing no more of her own inner nature. Well, that was interesting. My coffee and dessert were coming. She grabbed my attention again, and this time, when she revealed the devilish inner soul that thoroughly unlocked my own, joined & led us both in a wavering, even drunken, little dance that lasted some fifteen seconds.

Wine ... they never give children enough red wine.

Even so, she wasn't tapping into any more jruit from me!


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