The most important thing

The one to remind of the most important thing. The first one, that post-it. Soon it is eclipsed by two more, other things to do. Years pass, and soon that important thing is forgotten, not because it is less relevant than before, but because it is lost below a sea of yellow posts.

Other priorities, time to change. I loose myself. Who was I, where was I? Time to despair. The wall is full and I feel like a fool, it is yellow and not so mellow. I start to look, but every time I feel a spook. So much things to do, but maybe just one or two.

The years passed and I moved on, though not knowing why or so. A new stage in life, and maybe time to settle priorities right. My wall is clear and there is no reason to fear.

So there it is  a pile of yellow that reminded of a previous fellow. So I wrote what I though it was the best and my most important role.

That yellow paper would show me the way everyday. But one or two more things appeared so, and so another yellow until it filled all the corners…

Gas

Mr. and Mrs. Gas lived at a perfectly pressurized, cozy and french style house. As part of the Gas Clan, they were envisioned as the perfect family and society looked up to them as a “model family”; in short the Gas’s were natural and well preserved.

One day however, Mrs. Gas noted that Mr. Gas was drinking a non pressurized beverage. She bursted into such madness that the cat, dog and sofa hid in places no one would think as possible, the sun hid behind clouds and the grass turned inside out. Sadly Mr. Gas could not do a thing for her eyes were madly fixed on him.

Minutes passed, and she started walking backwards but without letting go of hes dear husband. For days the situation remained the same and he felt bound in every way, he envied the cat and dog, but mostly the sofa. Where they were still remains a mystery…

So days passed and as Mrs. Gas fell asleep or better said went unto a power nap, Mr. Gas did the unthinkable, the only thing a Gas was not supposed to do. Like Thor and his lightning strike he rushed to the door and left the house…and he was history.

The change in pressure immediately woke Mrs. Gas up, what was happening? Before she could even think she dashed towards the door and closed it. Must have been a strong wind, after she looked for him, everywhere, nowhere, up and down, but no sign of him. She called his parents, familiars, friends and foes, but no one knew where he was.

Then as she gazed at the sky from her perfectly pressurized, cozy and french style house she noted something, hardly could she make of it….

It was Gas!