The Bolthole by Asher
July 2004
8Dancing Back from the Edge
10In Hell
11First Circle
12Second Circle
13Third Circle
14The Fourth Circle
First Circle
July 11, 2004

My good master: "Don't you wish to be told
Who these spirits are? I want you to know,
Before some of their stories unfold,

That they did not sin; neither did their virtue bestow
On them any advantage, for they did not receive
Baptism, the gateway to the faith you follow

Canto IV
The Inferno of Dante Alighieri
A Rhymed Translation by Seth Zimmerman

Thought I would keep up the hellish theme. Laughing

My first night has passed quietly enough and the only thing bothering me today is the need of food. I'm going to have to cleaned up, grab some breakfast somewhere, tend to the rose garden and run a few errands. I discovered that I need a few things, and its simpler to get them rather than run the 25 miles back to the kids' house.

I was up tending to Satan's other side job. He does the gardening for a twice-widowed elderly lady. She has a really nice house in a gated community and the plants need more attention than she can provide. She also rarely uses this house. She has another out on the eastern shore where she spends most of her time.

I've enjoyed the watering, tending, and pruning of the rosebushes. It's gotten me some fresh air and exercise. Plus as I have gotten older, I have found myself wanting to do a little gardening for myself, but haven't had the opportunity in my current living arrangements. The only thing I could have done without is the heat and they humidity. Beer barrels with feet are not built for this kind of weather. Wink

It feels kind of creepy there. It's a beautiful, well-appointed house. However, I can't really call it a home. It seems almost antiseptic. There's no life in the place. It is thoroughly devoid of anything that gives a sense of the owner. It's all very clean, neat, and tidy -- but sterile.

Even the knick-knacks, pictures and books seem like ghosts of memories -- dry intangible fragments fading slowly from the world. A house that large should be full of vim & vigor. It should be the home of a large, loving, boisterous family -- filled with all the emotions both good and bad that come from life. Instead, it stands empty like a monument to some long forgotten hero.

When clipping the roses, I was struck by the oxymoron of it all. I nipping off spent flowers to make way for new growth. It seemed such a ridiculous thing to do in that place, where things are just in a holding pattern.

I must admit that I was also struck by the waste of the flowers themselves. They sit there unappreciated growing and blossoming, until their time to be snipped off comes. If I had someone to give them to, I would at the very least father them up and shower them with sweet smelling rose petals. If I were feeling particularly sly and cocky, I'd present a few new buds, carefully taken from where they wouldn't be noticed. It certainly seems a better idea than casting them off into the brush -- as I was shown to do.

Join Now!
Sign in

March 2019
February 2019
December 2018
November 2018
October 2018
September 2018
August 2018
July 2018
April 2018
March 2018
February 2018
January 2018
November 2017
July 2017
June 2017
March 2017
December 2016
November 2016
October 2016
September 2016
August 2016
July 2016
June 2016
May 2016
April 2016
February 2016
January 2016
December 2015
November 2015
October 2015
September 2015
August 2015
July 2015
June 2015
May 2015
April 2015
March 2015
February 2015
January 2015
December 2014
November 2014
October 2014
August 2014
July 2014
June 2014
May 2014
April 2014
March 2014
February 2014
January 2014
December 2013
November 2013
October 2013
September 2013
August 2013
July 2013
June 2013
May 2013
April 2013
March 2013
February 2013
January 2013
December 2012
November 2012
October 2012
September 2012
August 2012
July 2012
June 2012
May 2012
April 2012
March 2012
February 2012
January 2012
December 2011
November 2011
October 2011
September 2011
August 2011
July 2011
June 2011
May 2011
April 2011
March 2011
February 2011
January 2011
December 2010
November 2010
October 2010
September 2010
August 2010
June 2010
May 2010
April 2010
March 2010
February 2010
January 2010
December 2009
September 2009
August 2009
February 2009
December 2008
November 2008
October 2008
September 2008
August 2008
July 2008
June 2008
May 2008
April 2008
March 2008
February 2008
January 2008
December 2007
November 2007
October 2007
September 2007
August 2007
July 2007
June 2007
May 2007
April 2007
March 2007
February 2007
January 2007
December 2006
November 2006
October 2006
September 2006
August 2006
July 2006
June 2006
May 2006
April 2006
March 2006
February 2006
January 2006
December 2005
November 2005
October 2005
September 2005
August 2005
July 2005
June 2005
May 2005
April 2005
March 2005
February 2005
January 2005
December 2004
November 2004
October 2004
September 2004
August 2004
July 2004
June 2004
May 2004
April 2004
March 2004
February 2004
January 2004
December 2003
November 2003
October 2003
September 2003
August 2003
July 2003
June 2003
May 2003
April 2003
March 2003
February 2003
January 2003

Login to select
your favorite journals


If you're ready for a zombie apocalypse, then you're ready for any emergency.

adopt your own virtual pet!
adopt your own virtual pet!

adopt your own virtual pet!

© Website Copyright 2004 by
© Journal Content Copyright 2004 by the Author
Terms of Service Agreement
Privacy Policy