She couldn’t figure it out. Whatever angle she looked at it with, it just didn’t make sense. Like one of those stair paintings… they went nowhere despite looking as though they had a purpose or direction. And just like those stair paintings, she couldn’t look away, couldn’t stop thinking about it, couldn’t stop trying to rationalize what could not be rationalized. A sigh forced itself from her lips and she rested her left forearm on her forehead. She shifted on her bed of earth, drawing a leg up and opening her eyes to stare at the endless canopy of stars.
It’s a paradox, wrapped in an enigma, wrapped in bacon… because everything’s better wrapped in bacon. She smiled slightly at this thought, remembering the British Lit. professor it had come from. At the time he had been talking of satire. Certainly not about what occupied her mind now. Bacon, she thought. I haven’t had bacon in months.
How was it that something so maddeningly frustrating could keep her this captivated and leave her wanting more? It was so unlike her. The more she saw, the more she feared, the more she craved… It was different. It was new. It was frightening. She wanted to know why and, despite her best efforts, could not begin to understand.
Knowing was becoming a matter of principal. She was determined to make sense of it. If that meant losing herself to it, then so be it, but perhaps then she could rest easy.
Man, I wish I had some bacon…
