Into the sunset

We must learn deep within that God wants only our cooperation. – Witness Lee

Into the sunset is a low-budget film short in which almost nothing and yet everything happens. It stars Toothpick as the little girl, the mouse, and the woman; Frankie as the monkey, the cat, and the fox; Florence Belleville as the moose and then the two horses1; and God as the wind.

Il a peur de descendre (3 July 2020)

Chapter 1

Mid-summer, Brooklyn, 2020

“Il a peur de descendre,” says the long-legged moose about the little monkey to the young girl. She smiles as she speaks the words, hoping perhaps the kid will give up her stance, leave her and her monkey alone, misbehaved as it may be.

But she won’t. She’s wearing her red headband. She’s got on her purple turtleneck, and her yellow pants with the red buttons. The kid means business, God’s business. There is work to do, and they need to get to it.

The monkey is hurting, see. Its wounds need to be addressed. They have festered too long as it is, they have already caused too much damage. Lest this rotting, gangrenous thing poison and kill the moose, it needs to be taken down off its perch, examined and understood, administered medicine.

As logical and reasonably simple as these tasks may seem to you, dear reader, the girl has her work cut out for her. This moose is full of excuses; this moose is slow to understand. To illustrate my point, consider the following. How many times does a moose have to lose her wedding ring before having the curiosity and creativity of mind to wonder if the universe might not be trying to tell her something? You would think maybe two times, right? Nope. Not this moose! Three times it took. Three! Once in an airport. Another time in a parking lot. And then a third time in her own kitchen when it went out with the trash. The trash! And even then, what did the moose do? She went straight to her favorite jeweler on Court Street to have a fourth one made! If the moose’s husband hadn’t sat her down and said they needed to separate while the damn thing was being made, she would have worn the fourth one for who knows how long!

Like I said, the girl has her work cut out for her. But fortunately for the moose, whether she agrees with me or not, the kid is tenacious, the kid doesn’t back down from a challenge.

Jean-Claude-Philippe-André, ça suffit maintenant ! (3 October 2020)

Chapter 2

Three months later

The little mouse stands on her box, hands on her hips, eyes on the cat.

“Jean-Claude-Philippe-André,” she says, “Ça suffit maintenant!”

The horse, too, has her eye on the cat. Stuck to her leg, that little thing had made the horse walk a little crooked, maybe, but it hadn’t prevented her from walking. She’d still been able to go to work and travel and have relationships and whatever. She’d even pretty much forgotten it was there.

The dead weight of this cat clinging to her tail, though? It’s worse than a horsefly! It’s worse than a swarm of horseflies! Bothersome, annoying. Relentlessly so. It will drive the horse mad to leave it there; it will be the death of her. But she can’t just flick her tail and send it sailing violently towards its death against some barn wall or something, either. The cat is part of her; she would not feel whole without it.

The mouse is right. It’s time Jean-Claude-Philippe-André quit clinging to the horse. It’s time Jean-Claude-Philippe-André came down off his perch. It’s time the two of them figured out a way to be together without killing each other. Nobody is riding off into the sunset until they do.  

Le vent dans le dos (25 October 2020)

Chapter 3

Twenty-two days later

A woman sits peacefully in her saddle, her hand resting lightly on the horse’s mane. Snuggled up in a ball right up against her back, a little fox as tamed and subdued as the horse. Forward they move, the woman and the horse and the fox. Into the sunset. Together. No leashes or reins or bridles or whips, just the wind at their backs.

God speed, my friends.

Soft drink (?) stain for Il a peur de descendre
Paint stain for the horse in Jean-Claude-Philippe-André, ça suffit maintenant!
Water stain for Le vent dans le dos

Author’s note: This piece is the unification and reworking of two previous blog entries: Who’s counting? (16 April 2023) and God speed (11 June 2023).

  1. Who are these people? See Left to right. ↩︎

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