A bed of roses beds of roses roses
A group of three were in the house. Both in the house and with Lucas, within that moment right then, as if that moment was different from any other moment that had been or could have been or will be, and there are so many moments that could be and will not be that within that moment that changed right there, it was as if a miracle had happened between the three of them, and none of them had taken direct conscious notice of it, but instead one of them had turned to the other and seen something different, but one had not been chosen, it was all three of them that turned and seened, and there nine different projections were exposed to all of them, even the reflection of themselves seened by others, although Jenny had been isolated in the kitchen. Can’t have been that Jenny had turned to the others and seened through them, that they could have saw through something that could not be seen through. Derrick, on the couch, looking at Lucas — yes — as if Lucas had said something, but he had not, and instead was looking back at Derrick who was looking at Lucas looking back at him. Even if they had not been looking at one another, here came in Jenny who saw them looking at one another and had realized that something had changed but had not said it for there was no reason to say what was already known.
— Forget it — she had said, and had turned back around as there was food on the stove, a chicken stew in a big, metal pot that could be heard bubbling from the other room where the pair of Derrick and Lucas were sitting, and now were not looking at each other but instead looking ahead of them, staring listlessly while listening to the bubbling. Grand, popping bubbles came flowing up from the heat on the water, and the chicken inside with the herbs and the spices to heat it up, and to make it tastier for their palettes and for all three of them to be eating and drinking the broth that was about to be done. Heating up from the fire that was underneath the pot that the chicken was inside of, and the bubbles still clearing the air of any other noise that could have been made, and the sonics of the bubbles made the sound very clear to anyone who could hear it.
— I can hear the bubbles — Lucas told Derrick, and Derrick responded telling Lucas to not say what was already known, as it’s bad manners and plainly stupid, and nobody wants to think of Lucas as stupid, as he’s a nice and smart boy who does what he needs to when he needs to. Jenny had heard this stupid remark. Knowing what they knew, though, that it was not necessary to say what is already known, took away from talking about what is not known, because it is important, they thought, to let the others they were with know that they knew what they know, and then they could find what they do not know on the foundation of what they do know. Lamenting on knowing and not knowing, and even further, unknowing, is actually distracting from doing, though, they thought. Many of them, on this matter of knowing, did not have the courage to say that they do not know, but needed further courage to say that they do know: that, in fact, they know a lot, and although there are things they do not know, in the face of ridicule, they will still say what they know. And in what they don’t know, it could be that their not-knowing is neither knowing or unknowing. To not know is to be nothing, to be neither is to be something.
— No, it’s not stupid — Lucas had told Derrick.
— Only through saying what I know can I say what I don’t know, even if what I say is not all that I know or all there is to be known — Lucas told Derrick. — Put it this way — Derrick said, — without your knowing what you are saying, in the same way I cannot help but read what is in front of me, is there a point in you saying what is known, forcing me to understand what you say to me?
— Questions I can’t answer — Lucas told Derrick.
Really, though, yes, between the two of them, and the third who had been listening the whole time as well, and they were talking, but really, there was the stew bubbling with these large and vast landscape bubbles and there was chicken and herbs and spices and onions and potatoes now too, and they were all going to eat it very soon. Soon, yes, and there would be more than enough for the three of them, and Jenny could put the extra away in a tupperware container and save it for lunch tomorrow, and she could have some, and if the other felt like it, they could possibly have enough for all three of them to eat it all over again tomorrow. Thinking of eating lunch, or rather dinner tonight, was making the three of them very hungry, and Jenny called the other two into the kitchen to set the table and serve themselves the stew. Usually, when the three of them eat together, they do not talk, but tonight, they felt like talking because it seemed like they were all thinking more than they usually do, as if something had changed. Very often, when these instances occur, and they do not occur often, it can lead to something truly new, an entirely new thought, outside of the realm of senses, a type of noumena that is only between the three of them, and cannot be understood outside of that context. Without them being there, doing that and being them, that cannot exist anywhere else in the world, and for the birth of it, there still had to be a miracle. And the three of them ate.