cadeau_de_vous_little_blue_ball geschenke the old man folded his arms then and leaned his back into the counter. he seemed pleased with what sunil had said about a person's desire for the awareness of home, but even more with the fact that he beheld it through an image of simple beauty. "what you see before you," he said, lifting his right foot and setting it over his left ankle, "is one of many ways your soul is trying to get you on the right path that will eventually lead you back to the place where you first started." his socks were made visible. one was red and white striped with the other being black and white striped. "you mean back to where i was born and raised?" sunil asked. he straightened himself and faced the old man. next to deiter and sunil's envelopes there was a terracotta bowl on the countertop that contained several rectangles of colorful modeling clay. sunil grabbed a blue one and absent-mindedly manipulated it, softening it with his warm fingers. its clean, earthy scent punctuated the air inside the confines of the tiny shack and provided him with the malleability of an inanimate object to direct his bewilderment into. an abstract equivalent for his feelings. "childhood and all the memories of growing up is something we all carry inside and often call upon for solace," the old man said. he watched sunil work the clay. "it's a refuge for some, yet avoided by others for the painful recollections they attempt to bury." sunil lifted his eyes from his hands and looked at the old man. it was easy for him to think of a shitty time when he was a kid, like when he was woken by the sound of his mother's body being slammed into the hallway by his drunken father. he shook it off. "back further then?" sunil asked. his fingers stopped. he liked the cool softness of the clay. "all the way back," the old man answered. he shook his head slowly like a wise turtle and lifted his eyebrows. sunil swallowed and his eyes narrowed with his search for the right answer. "the womb?" sunil asked. he began shaping the clay again, stretching and pulling it as if he was trying to take it back to the place the old man was referring to. but, the old man just smiled another toothless grin. he was impressed with sunil's careful consideration, yet he felt he was still limiting his ability to dig. he had not reached far enough. "you're close," the old man said. he removed his skullcap and plopped it on the countertop. he ran both hands through his scraggly, shoulder-lengthed grey hair and went on. "the womb is the birthplace of our physical body, our entrance into this world," the old man continued, "but who is the one that has knowledge of what it was like? it's for us a picture of what we all seek, just like the awareness of home you see there behind you." the old man unfolded his arms and pointed to his sleeping pets. the orange cat now had her head resting against the reclining side of the bassethound. "the sleep of peace, the cozy warmth of acceptance, the love, that's what we want. that's what we call home." "where is home then?" sunil asked. "is it the place where our spirit began?" the old man held out his hand and wiggled his fingers. "let me see the clay for a second," he said. sunil gave it to him and he quickly formed a blue ball and held it up in the air as though it was the earth floating in the universe. "if this is our home," he began his question, flashing another toothless grin. he gazed upwards. the light from the window seemed to illuminate his point. sunil thought his eyes were almost the same color as the clay. "then who am i?" 050202 ... cr0wl you are the one who lives upon it and the one who gives all you have 080621 ... PeeT . 120317 what's it to you? who go blather from