Man In Castle-About-Which-World-Rotates Wishes To Leave His Castle

A transcription of my latest visit to the man in the castle around which the world rotates.

I said, “man of the castle, I don’t know your name, I don’t know your depthy nature. And you have treated me badly. You have degraded my partner in life, who I care for infinitely. Still, for a reason or another unexplainable, I wish to help you spread your story, I care to tend to the Grand Conveyor as you call it, and I desire to fulfill my potential for novelty which I don’t hope to understand. Do you have any words for me?”

“I’m so sorry. So, so, so, sorry, Dernberger, for the taste and aftertaste of my last visit. It was wrong of me and not in my usual nature to treat you or anyone with such rash disrespect. I admit I was feeling sick. I hadn’t eaten or opened my slit for light in many days. Probably, I was vitamin and sun-deprived. And, in all honesty, I have been depressed in my castle. It has not been serving me and I am depressed because of it. I am so sorry to have let my inner darkness seep out and upon you. I hope we can make amends.”

“’Tis settled, then. We are of the same likeness, and let us move forward, us castle fellows.”

“I thank you, Dernberger. And I’ve been craving to tell you that I can’t help but dream of dare I say escaping my confines here. I am ashamed to say, that my dreams of infinity are weaning and browning. My paintings are bland. My life is bland. I am hungry. I wish I were you, or at least like you, upon the Conveyor as opposed to being its destination, but know that I never can be. ”

“Man of the castle, what is your name?”

“Call me whatever the current mythology says. That is my preference.”

“But, what is your name?” I asked him.

“It matters not. Call me using the language that conveys well.”

“I will not,” I told him. “Going forward, I will call you by your name, as you call me by mine. And we will get your sheltered feet upon this here land. Tell me your name, and I will leave you to reflect. When I return, I will return with a sledgehammer.”

“It won’t work. But fine.. Fine… My mother named me Theodore Douglas”.

“Okay, Theodore, I wish you well and will return soon.”

“Thank you Dernberger. Thank you very much.”

As I left, I heard Theodore call out from behind me, “Be careful that the Grand Conveyor does not carry you away from me.

“Worry not, Theodore. You are speaking to the Tender to the Grand Conveyor. I know which grass to water and when, and I do so with prowess.”

I imagined he smiled when he said “Oh, right, I forgot. I do trust you. See you soon, my friend.”


For more articles by Dernberger Spengleton, click here. To establish contact, email spengleton@surrealtimes.net.

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