That’s it, you’re fired, said the White Coat, whose children were sniffling back the tears. No more stories please.
I thought that I was just getting the hang of it, said the Blue Knight, in a voice of disappointment, one more go? No! said the White Coat. Good day! and stormed out.
The B.K., unemployed, discovered that he was being stalked, followed and impeded by a small box that had become tied to his shoelaces. Picking up, he turned to discover a small label on the under. In tiny writing then, he saw, squinting, this.
This box contains Several and General Sadness precipitated by the inability of the human race to grow up. Do not open without supervision. Use emotionally intelligent gloves and stand behind a protective screen.
The Blue Knight had found a sadness and did not know where to put it.
I could put it at the back of a kitchen shelf behind the jam, I could throw it from a high cliff into the deepest seas, I could mail it to the farthest far place, or I could bury it with the bones. But wherever it goes, I will still know that it is there, like Preacher’s hair. The only solution is to tip it out on the kitchen table to reveal and tease out its constituent parts.
I would fain make this journey in the presence of others, as they may have their own receptacles of emotion to deal. I shall take it on my retreat and deal with myself, possibly with the aid of a professional Sadness Diffuser.
The B.K, after saying farewell, so long, see you soon, to his partner the Blue Woman Knight and their Small Child Knight, went far into the wilderness away, desert long mountain springs, water lay crystal in its pools and sharp rocks prowled. He lay down to rest and prepared the kitchen and its concomitant table for business.
In that evening when the sky was quiet, he unlidded the box and, with a chop stick, teased out the first, the second, the third, and the fourth small items into the dawn. The first Sadness, calling itself, Why oh why do they do that. The second, A sigh with a shrug of the shoulders and a tendency to inaction. The third sadness, A sinking feeling of inevitability as the human race repeats its disastrous decisions. The fourth, A predictable clamouring for power.
These four, said the BK, looking like small lumpy cubicles with coloured patches, are all painful to me and make my head an unpleasant place to remain, I shall take them to the Diffuser for executable action.
The Diffuser sat at the base of a cliff by a small fire, from which the smoke always departed at 45 degrees towards the south.
The Blue Knight came to the professional with an appropriate gift of fruit and flowers. Also, financial compensation and presented one small sadness called, The Why oh why do they do that, again?
The BK sat and showed the Sadness Cubicle to the professional Diffuser. What do you want me to do with this? She asked.
Can you diffuse it? Cut the yellow or blue wire? Shield us from its pernicious waves? Can you untie it from my shoelaces and illuminate its shadow? Can you pull its teeth and spike its guns?
Yes and no, said the Diffuser, I can show you how to carry it without burning, I can spray your cloths in anti-depressant and show you how to look at it the wrong way through a telescope. In these ways I would be of service. But eradication is on you.
There is a way of eradication that I feel duty to mention, but it is a road only taken by the brave or the foolish, or the foolishly brave or the bravely foolish. You can take your sorrow to Mount Fume, wherein all the disappointments of the human race are forged and throw it there into the furnace from which it came.
Excellent, said the BK, which direction is Mt Fume?
Not so fast, said the Diffuser, I must warn you that the route will take you through the Slough of Beyond and across the Chasm of Repair, then down the Road of Self-doubt, passed the Last Inn of Warm Beer and through the Forest of Dangerous Trees, or is it the Dangerous Forest of Trees, I can never remember.
Doesn’t sound so bad, said the BK, I’ll be on my way.
The Guardians of the Cave 