An English In Kentucky


















Wednesday November 28th 2012    Tim Candler

    Awkward thing to lose a corpse.  For some while, here on the table beside the Helpful Conversion Chart, I've had the earthly remains of a Great Black Wasp, and the shattered remains of the smaller,  more pesky Wasp, which when weather was nicer offered up yet another opportunity to experience emotions attached to the prospect of dying alone in an ignoble and rather pathetic manner, at a most uncivilized hour of the day.  It's this latter Wasp that has gone missing.  I have no idea where she is.  And even though it might sound like rambling from a mind insufficiently occupied, I have been concerned for her whereabouts.   It's possible that something with four very small feet crunched her up, in the way that you or I might crunch up a Papadom, or a Potato Crisp.  

    It's also the case that I have been sneezing, so it's possible she was wafted across the table into the wilder parts where older ideas are stored amongst the bits of fluff that are not living things even though they do have an extraordinary capacity to grow.  Thinking back, I recall the smaller Wasp being in her familiar place before I boldly ventured across several State Lines to meet The Child.   Pretty certain that before I left, the smaller Wasp was right there beside the Great Black Wasp, and they were sort of on their sides facing each other in a communion sometimes so silent my heart would fret for the damage I had done to at least one of them.  Interesting too, it's the wasp that I killed which has gone missing.

Previous    Next