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Deep Colors in Threes
by
Jerry Vilhotti
Tom began speaking to his headlights that
were showing him the way. He sang a few lines from a Hank Williams song about
seeing the light and then began to talk to the outer darkness in the direction
of Northshredder New York where he thought he would find Christ with His heart
glowing in a compassionate red holding a lamb and not nailed to a cross Who
would stop the greatest country ever invented from being viewed like a so-called
mother beating a child - going from the "ugly-American" to the
"anti-human-everything-monster goose stepping American - and so Tom used his
comforting way of speaking in threes: "Got to get far far away from that smelly
restaurant near Washington Irving with it sucking away money into now fifty
thousand dollars in debt with all its red curtains, gray rug's and six black
fireplaces!" He repeated this two more times.
Tom was referring to the little French
restaurant with four chefs screaming at each other with knives drawn that he and
his fourth wife Rhoda bought and then enlarged from the one room flat O. Henry
had lived in to three times and they anxiously waited for the throngs of
Manhattanites to come and eat - making them richer - but most of them became
lost around Fourteenth street.
Tom continued north convinced that was
where he would find Christ and even maybe himself. It sure was getting
complicated to find one's way around what with all the color codes to
understand.
"People will be jumping out of their cars
when they come to a traffic light not knowing what to do when seeing all three
colors of green, yellow and red for a simultaneous second!" Tom said three times
as he gripped the steering wheel even tighter not realizing he was only nine
miles away from his first confinement in a place for stressed out people near
Kafka Mountain.
"Three, six, nine," he said three times.
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