Friday, 23 August 2013

Rat quandary

Angst — if not existential, then circumstantial — afflicts even a rat. When not foraging or bustling about on mundane tasks in the rats' nest (and there's never a shortage), he worries and wonders how best to spend his minutes, hours, days and money; where his energy is most aptly applied; how to respond to the suffering of fellow rats and the degradation of rat habitats everywhere; whether he's better off conjuring fresh rat histories or preparing others' for presentation— or trying harder to do both; then of course, he wonders if these are still pertinent questions when he's asked them so many times before and somehow trundled on, making this choice and/or that, doing (and failing to do) this or/and that; finding that life goes on unfolding whichever way he handles it. He reckons life is a quiet cacophony  of paradoxes that occasionally strike a gloriously harmonious chord.

Thus far, today, the page is blank and Ratty's not even sure what colour he is.

He recommends (remembering his job description) that others in this fix pop over to Rosa Mira Books and choose one to read.


Marylinn Kelly said...

Having seen the rainbow version first, I backtrack and say, ease up on yourself, Ratty. All is well, all goes well. We are not always good judges of our own progress. Give your mind and spirit a bit of rest. xo

Penelope said...

Ratty says thanks, M. Friday night and he's lying back by the fire, gently snoring in time with the dog. We'll try to maintain the pose or its equivalent throughout the weekend.