Back into the Box

As above so below, as within so without. I keep reciting the hermeneutic principles in my head. Over and over and over again. As the universe so the soul.

I snort; involuntarily spraying rain water. Right. Now I am gargoyle waterspout. Hear me blubber! The universe’s responds for the soul, my arse! Well if not the universe so at least the local weather front that haunted my lunchtime walk. I tried to escape. I would say I tried to outrun it, but who am I kidding a lame duck who just had lunch could outrun me and that’s on a good day. I am getting pelted now. Soaked to the bone. I don’t feel it though. I am still walking, yes I have not yet even turned around back home. I will walk until the thunder within has calmed as the thunder above. I will walk until I can feel my skin again. I will walk until the rage abides, until I put the image of the narcissist back into a black box. I might imagine a couple of swords stuck through the box like in a magic trick. Anything to hold her in place and stop me from calling and give her what she wants attention. The universe responds to that image is a sudden whiteness. For a fraction of a second I can’t see anything but light and then the world booms and an oak tree falls.