The Road and the Flat

[BESIDE THE ROAD]

Some of us fell off the truck along the road and rolled into the ditch. Here we sit, having never arrived. It's okay. There are flowers along the road in spring. Every now and then other trucks pass by and the people always wave and smile. When it rains we splash and play in the ditch. We've made quite a little life for ourselves here along the road. Once in a while it occurs to us to follow the ruts and see where all the trucks are going, but our truck is so far away by now. What if we reach a fork in the road ahead in the yellow wood somewhere and two roads diverge? Which road would we take? Would it make a difference? Some of us fell off the truck and never got to where everyone else got to. It's okay, though. Here we are, having arrived in our own way. And way leads on to way, or so I've heard some say.

[IN A DOWNSTAIRS FLAT]

A family of elephants have moved into the flat upstairs, and the flat is beginning to sag. It's not the noise that annoys, really, so much as the breach of policy. Animals are not allowed in the building, and this pack of derms has two dogs and a parrot. We were required to give away our beloved iguana Roscoe upon our arrival here, and here these shorn mammoths are practically running a zoological park with their three pets. If one of those elephants crashes through the living room ceiling soon, as seems likely, I will find it difficult to be hospitable. I try to be as civilized as the next guy, but there's a limit to the injustice that I can endure. Elephants are bending the flat upstairs, fraternizing with forbidden pets. What's a man to do?

[BESIDE THE ROAD AGAIN]

"Have you ever noticed," asked Jasper, "that the trucks never come back?"

"You cannot say never, Jasper," I reminded him. "Not yet."

[CUSTOMARY CLOSING]

Hello, friends. How are you today?

Later. Love.