DAY 32: The Complexity of a Bean – Part I

Richard Morris, an affluent English gentleman in possession of a modest fortune, was meandering through the London thoroughfares when his life was suddenly changed.

Richard Morris didn’t attempt to break out of the mould of the elite upperclassmen. He was fairly wealthy, and he wanted everyone to know it. He wore a suit with a cravat, a top hat, polished shoes, and his hair was combed back so particularly that not one single strand went awry. His countenance was solemn, his lips perpetually pursed and his eyebrows knitted together, as if he was always in a state of avid concentration. His mien was one of firmness and sobriety; his manner was stiff and formal, never breaking the propriety of decorum, and most would say that, if a train were coming his way, Richard would remain as erect as ever whilst walking ponderously away from the tracks, his pace as slow as it would have been if he were sauntering through a drawing room.

Fortunately, he had not yet been involved in such a situation, and, he prayed, would not get involved in one in the present or the future.

Richard did have one foible, though, in the aspect of formality and adherence to conventions; he loved walking in the rain. As such, he often returned to his abode sopping, and his servant, Ambrose would have a difficult time making certain that his suits would not get ruined from such exposure to water. Richard didn’t care much, though. Even now, as torrents poured upon him, he remained straight-backed and grim faced. Yet in his heart, there was great joy. He doffed his top hat and held it in both hands as he walked, closing his eyes and relishing the feeling of each individual drop gracing in pate.

Then, there was a crash.

He felt a surge of electricity course through him instantaneously; there was a temporary burning sensation, like every internal extremity of his body was on fire. He was sure that he was going to explode and leave a mess on the London thoroughfares, and prayed to the Lord that his remains would be few and far between, and that it would not be two much of a hassle to clean him up. Even in the face of death, Richard’s respect for others, and his desire for sanitation, won out over his fear.

But when the burning had ceased, he found that he was still standing, with his hat in his hands, as if nothing had happened. He looked around and saw no one, immediately wishing that there had been some pedestrian present to witness what had happened to him. Was it a dream? Had it just been the product of his own imagination? Or had he really, indeed, been struck by lightning.

One thing was for certain, he felt different. He suddenly didn’t care much for propriety or decorum; he found it more difficult to remain erect while walking. He couldn’t contort his face into an expression of sobriety and solemnity any more, and the air about him at turned into one that would make a passel of little girls laugh in hysteria. Had the lightning done it? Had it altered his disposition? Had something changed irreversibly in his nature?

Then, one object came to his mind: A bean.

Whether it was his weariness (being struck by lightning can wear a person out, contrary to popular belief), or an alteration in his brain – resulting from the lightning – he could not tell, but he suddenly had an inordinate desire to consume this harmless little article of food.

He rushed home at once.


In Christ,




1 Comment

  1. June 11, 2011 at 10:20 pm

    “He was sure that he was going to explode and leave a mess on the London thoroughfares, and prayed to the Lord that his remains would be few and far between, and that it would not be two much of a hassle to clean him up.”

    One of the best lines you have ever written. Honestly, this is great. You are really good at flushing out the personality of your characters. Keep it up 🙂

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