15 August 2012
There was this old potato that fell out of a sack it was formally sitting inside of, at the supermarket. The supermarket in question is not relevant. It could have been any of them as long as they sold potatoes. You see if they did not sell potatoes then you were thinking of the wrong supermarket and well, it would have ruined this story.
The potato lay on the floor unnoticed by all passers by. Solitary and alone, contemplating the world passing by, longing to be reunited with its brethren, for hours or days perhaps. Potatoes do not have any concept of time. In the distance, potato noticed an old woman with scruffy shoes approaching. Her one eye fixated on the solemn potato, she bent down and balanced on one knee. She picked up the potato and looked at it with pity.
"This is it" thought the potato.
He was to be reunited with his potato family, but no. At the last moment the old woman held the potato in front of her decrepit face. She had a face like an overused sponge. A sponge that had lost its ability to absorb liquid circa The Battle of Hastings, 1066.
She said "Oh, lonely potato. I shall take you home. I shall take you home and look after you. I will love you like a son".
The potato was understandably disturbed by this. Panic and sheer terror washed over him. He thought..... "why is this woman speaking to a potato?".
The Parable of the Potato • Opuss № I