On my way to Memphis, I had to stop in Tupelo, in Mississippi, less than 120 miles (193 kilometres) from my destination and the King. He was born in Tupelo, so I decided to start there, in case I could see him when he was a kid. Little Elvis sounded strange and I could not even imagine what he looked like. I looked at a few pictures, but I was sure that he would look better, alive.
I could not find him in Tupelo. The timing was off by too many parameters. I had to focus on Memphis and the King all grown up and almost as famous as Jesus. (By the way, the first individual to be more famous than Jesus was Charlie Chaplin. Michael Jackson was the third.) I was humming, Back to Memphis by Chuck Berry when I appeared there.
I arrived before his Graceland period, too sure I will be able to see him. The timing was off again. My ability to reach him anywhere was extremely limited. I had three trials, like three wishes, except that there was no genie helping me. I had one last chance during the height of his fame. He was in Graceland. Alleluia!
Third time's a Charm did not play here at all; well, almost all, since there is no all, or Whole, for that matter, but hole after hole almost ad infinitum. Even almost infinity is peculiar to grasp. Some things can only be used in the worlds of math; a noble field in the pursuit of reality. How is your dream going? Mine is being destroyed by insanity; ignorant and mean. Even scorpions are blind. I digressed too much. Elvis Presley in the flesh!
So, I thought. I do not believe in anything, not even taxes. Death is inescapable. What a cute Cosmos! But Nature takes the cake. So, I assumed per the data that I received from the future about the past. The future must have erred, as the past was the past. Elvis opened the door and I told him that even in 2024, and beyond, he is remembered and loved. I did not explain and disappeared.
Elementary particles in truth
Lack most of the tall story of stories
Velocity like a fountain of youth
Instills the semblance of territories
Spread across endless Elvis waves in sooth
-----
Dedicated to Elvis Presley.
About the Creator
Patrick M. Ohana
A medical writer who reads and writes fiction and some nonfiction, although the latter may appear at times like the former. Most of my pieces (over 2,200) are or will be available on Shakespeare's Shoes.
Keep reading
More stories from Patrick M. Ohana and writers in Fiction and other communities.
Esoteric Lust
A statue of a woman, especially if she is naked, may be spared in times of upheaval, unless men, pricks par excellence, become dumber than usual, or time chips away pieces of her grandeur. There is nothing more beautiful than a beautiful woman, except perhaps a tree bearing fruit or standing erect like a good prick. There are no good pricks as far as I know, but I will pretend that there are at least two, although one of them seems to be dying from loneliness after having discovered that almost everything taught is a lie repeated enough times to become a truth. Lies abound like the stars in a moonless night.
By Patrick M. Ohana2 months ago in Fiction
Time for #2
This is the second article on my review of the ideas in The Four Agreements. Here's the first article: I knew that I'd move forward with this series, but I put it off as Agreement #2 is a big stumbling block for me. I'd like to say I decided to get out of my own way and thus wrote this, but that isn't the truth. (Since Agreement #1 is to Be Impeccable with Your Word I surely need to own up to that)
By Judey Kalchik 3 days ago in BookClub
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.