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Eudemon: The Gift

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A deep chill was in the air as Eudemon left his home and headed east on Locust Street. A full moon shone on him as he walked to Riverside’s Urban Ecology Center. As he walked he stared at the moon as the earth’s shadow crept across its face. In the park telescopes were set up to observe this celestial happening. For a while, the man with the fancy telescope had it pointed at a nebula, which looked like a fuzzy cloud so very far away. Our planet’s shadow crept across the moon until it was an orange orb in the sky. Eudemon felt kind of spacey as he walked back across the river, turning around every now and then to gaze at the moon. He walked to the store with its windows spilling welcoming light out on to the sidewalk. The winter holidays came to mind. “What shall I give that my loved ones don’t already have.” He was cold from his walk as he entered the store. The warm air felt reassuring. The young woman inside said hi, and smiled. He said, “hi.” “We just received this shipment of wonderful apples,” she said as she held one out to him in the palm of her hand. She smiled. He looked at her and then at the apple. It was red, no, it was green, no, it was yellow. He became dizzy. He touched the apple and he was gone. His mind’s eye fell quickly through the skin of this mystical fruit and down, down to the core. Into the seeds he traveled and somehow he saw moving shapes as he went. And then an atom, or so he thought that is what one might look like, but he fell right into its center, into the nucleus and then incredibly inside of that and things became strange indeed with objects appearing and then, just as quickly disappearing. He fell into a deep sleep as he seemed to be spiraling down into nothingness. He was smaller than small. Infinitesimal. When he woke, all was dark. And then gliding by, first one then many glowing ribbons, vibrations actually. He could see them, feel them, hear them. Different vibrations all. He tried to examine them. There were billions on billions of them, all inside this apple, he guessed, if that was where he was. They were a song. The song of angels. They were the thoughts of God found inside of all things. And then, wham, there was a flood of light and sound. “They are delightful and only $1.09 a pound,” she said, “and they are organic, too.” He looked at the apple. He took a bite. It was sweet and sour at the same time. “Wow,” he said. ” I’ll take a dozen to give to my friends. I hope they are all as good as this one.” “Thanks, and have a good night,” she said as she handed him the bag. “Peace,” he said.