Something to plot about

I planned to skip this prompt, solitude is such an energy drainer. This morning though I felt the urge to get up and just get all the piled up things out in the open. It turned out that in the solitude of my toilet I evacuated most of those things so now I am sitting here not sure why I got up this early. I could’ve slept 90 minutes longer.

In a very expensive house there was a very expensive vase. The house owners were considered to be arrogant. Truth to be told, their house didn’t seem that expensive nor was beautiful enough for owners to be so full of themselves. Yet, there are a lot of worse people in this world so us accepting those two as breathing individuals wont make a big difference.

The vase was expensive. How can we be sure it was expensive? Well, for one, people weren’t allowed to touch it, they could have only admired the vase from afar. When asked who takes care of the vase, a house owner said only she is taking care of the vase. She has house help but dusting the vase is only allowed to her.

Their neighbors were jealous of the vase. They could have decorated their front yards to be more beautiful than these arrogant house owners’ yard. They did. They could have built better houses. They did. They could have bought famous art master pieces. They did. They couldn’t bare the thought of those arrogant people living in their not that expensive home and being so proud of themselves. And they didn’t. I mean, arrogant idiots didn’t even use the vase. They were just having it and keeping it so everyone can see it. What is the purpose of that vase, they all wanted to know.

They paid a burglar to invade that house, hide, and observe what the owners are doing with the vase.  During the night, the burglar fell asleep. By the time he woke up, the sun started to rise. A lady of the house came down in her night gown with a duster. She was dusting the vase and humming some tune. Then she put her lips close to the vase and started whispering something. When she was done, she kicked the vase with her leg. The vase tumbled to the floor and broke. She cleaned all the mess and brought a new vase. This vase was different than the original one. It had different colors and a different shape.

The same thing happened next few mornings. On the fifth morning, after replacing the vase with a new one, the lady of the house came right up to the burglar and told him:

“You have been observing me for the last five mornings. Each morning I did the same, yet, you remained persistent and kept coming here. Why?”
“I wanted to know what are you whispering to the vase.”
“Each morning I whisper different words. I take negative energy that piles up in me during the day and process it during the night to take all the experience I can out of it. In the morning, instead of seeking solitude to handle my problems, I just whisper them to the vase.”
“But why are you being so cautious about the vase? You don’t allow anyone to touch it.”
“People obsessed by the vase are not noticing that each day I have a different vase. They think the vase is very important to me and are focused on finding out why. This gives me time to take care of the things that I truly care about without being hindered by curious people. All their plots are also amusing to me.”, she laughed.

The burglar left the house. To his employers he said he saw nothing and that he will never return to that house again. That gave them something to plot about.

Prompt: solitude


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