My walking stick & I finally made it up the Indian mountain. We had traveled all the way here to consult the famed guru of the East. I slowly approach the guru in his cave, bowing before the tiny little man.
He looks like Gandhi...
“O Great Guru of the East…” I begin.
“West.” I look up suddenly.
“If you go far enough East, you go West,” the guru says simply.
Clearing my throat, I continue. “I came from America to seek your wisdom…”
“Well, you’ve found it! Here I am!” he cried excitedly.
This is a strange character…
“Erm, that’s not quite what I mean. I’ve been told you know the Meaning of Life. I’d wish to know it, if you please?” The guru thought a moment.
“Ah, the Meaning of Life! The Meaning of Life is a rutabaga.” I’m stunned.
“A- rutabaga? Is that it?!” He becomes deeply troubled.
“Um, maybe it’s broccoli?” I nod and crawl out.
“A rutabaga?!” I mutter to myself.
I told you you shouldn’t have given up on the garden, my walking stick mocks.
“Oh, shut up,” I grumble.