Tuesday, January 17, 2006
Late at night when the weary sleep off the day's exhaustion the Nutella nymph flits from house to house searching kitchens and pantries for the tasty glass of ebony creme that makes life sweet. Unseen. Unsuspected. A slight lick and a taste she gives to bless each jar, then moves on to the next house. But as the night wanes her day begins, enveloping her in mundanities. It is the joy of the night and the blessings she dispenses that help her forget that day job, profane in its demands. But what can she do? Man must also live by bread. She must work, and the only place that gave her a job was the peanut butter factory.