The Purplest Prose · 5:11pm Apr 5th, 2018

I wrote this lil comment in response to a story which, while I like it to a degree... has rather a way of lingering on a mundane topic a bit longer than necessary. And then after typing it, I re-read it... and nearly gave myself a hernia laughing. I really need to start writing dry comedy.

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I had to get to the other side of the road;

...the road which was composed of a bituminous compound of varying luster, embedded as it was with various gravels and grit, along with glassified material from sources such as metal smelting and glass refining. Also, I think they used recycled plastics as part off the mix now. Anyway, there it was... the road which I can to cross. The road which had borne ten thousands times ten thousand payloads of humans and their cargo in their mechanical chariots. Did anyone ever consider how the road felt about this, I pondered, while considering which forehoof to lift first in step one of 'crossing the road'. It was an important choice after all... left, or right... which one could take me to the positive outcome of my successful transposition of location to the opposing margin of the roadway, which could possibly doom me to eternal darkness and oblivion after a semi struck me and smeared my various organs and vital fluids into an elongated streak of gore... which would certainly attract vultures and magpies? The scavenging birds would benefit from this choice that was, to me, a grave negative. They could, from my remains, nurse their young to adulthood, from which one of their offspring might harbor a fortuitous mutation granting it sapience from which could spring an entire avian civilization. So, in the grand scheme of the universe, was either choice truly negative, or could there be always a positive to even what at first glance was disastrous beyond my comprehension in the scale of time and the cosmos? Such a weighty choice was mine, to step across this road and begin the march into eternity. Choices, choices; that was life, an endless sequence of choices for which we could never possibly tabulate the sheer magnitude of potential outcomes. I was frozen at the existential horror at it all. I might doom an entire race of intelligent beings from coming to be if I did not get run over! Dare I risk such a consequence? And yet... what if one of the birds choked on my eyeball and it's nigh-genius offspring wasted away? In that case there was by no means I could risk becoming road kill and dooming them all!

(6 hours later, she was hit by an asteroid, ending the philosophical crisis... we never did find out which hoof she decided to lift first.)

Report Alondro · 362 views · #my exposure to monty python led to this I think

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