Epiphany on Dimmiga Berg

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
When you're feeling down, once in a while a miracle happens. One frosty morning, out of a cloudy sky...

Submitted: July 24, 2012

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Submitted: July 24, 2012

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I suppose I should explain the terms. Dimmiga Berg is Swedish for “Misty Mountain” which pretty much describes the place where I live. Well, in the wintertime, anyway. And an epiphany? It’s what happened to Saul of Tarsus on the road to Damascus when God rapped his knuckles for being a jerk. An epiphany is a eureka moment when something that should have been obvious is made clear. It’s the kind of awakening cartoonists depict by drawing a light bulb over somebody’s head while, at the same time, showing a look of delighted surprise on their face.

I had mine about thirty years ago but I remember it as though it were yesterday.

It was wintertime, and for weeks I had been experiencing severe headaches. Headaches come in many shapes and sizes and I’m convinced that Lucifer, or possibly Loki, tailors them to fit us personally, to provide the greatest inconvenience.

Mine were like a painful band around the head that became tighter and tighter as their intensity grew.

They were especially frustrating because, each morning when I got out of bed, I’d be free of pain. I’d shower, get dressed, socialise with the family for half an hour or so, and then set off while it was still dark to walk to the railway station for the long commute to the Sydney CBD.

So far, so good. So far no headache. But by the time I arrived at the station after a fifteen minute walk, my head would be pounding and I knew that it would continue to pound for most of the morning. I suppose I should have sought medical advice in case those headaches were caused by something nasty, but that never occurred to me.

My epiphany was nothing short of miraculous.

I was trudging to the station one morning, the pain throbbing in my head, when suddenly there came a gap in the clouds and God (he has a bushy beard and very penetrating eyes) shoved his head through and said, “It’s the hat, you fool.”

Because the morning temperature usually hovers between 0°C and 7°C in the wintertime I’d begun wearing a hat to work. It was apparently a size too small and the headaches were the price I paid for a warm cranium.

I took it off, threw it in the first available trash can, and the headaches stopped, never to return.

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A Recommendation
My story was only intended to be a bit of fun even though every word of it is the absolute truth. Well, almost every word. God doesn’t really have penetrating eyes, though I envy him his beard. But I was reminded of it by a new Booksie writer, Craig Turner, who wrote a story he called The Life of a Salesman. During his introduction he said this: “Sometimes, just occasionally, you get an epiphany, a shot at redemption, a chance to open your eyes. It’s up to you what you do with it.” The story is categorised as a novel but we all know the problems Booksie has with that. It may be a short story. Even if Novel is an accurate description, the first chapter stands alone. I can recommend it for a good read. And, if it IS a novel, I’ll be along for the ride.

http://www.booksie.com/literary_fiction/novel/craig_turner/the-life-of-a-salesman


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