Byjove found himself one day in a quantum state he could not comprehend. Was he dead or alive? He could not tell. Time had no meaning at this level and different things were happening to him all at once. He was on his way to basketball practice, changing a light bulb on the upstairs bathroom vanity, playing footsie on an Macy’s escalator, speaking naked in front of an audience of a million pinheads and watching his dog Rondo change into a spotted winged armadillo knocking over his late aunt’s urn off the fireplace. At that precise moment there came a petite knocking at the front door. It was two teenage female Jehovah witnesses dressed in plaid skirts. The door, having been slightly open at the time sparked the curiosity of the two girls. They took this as a sign to come in. “Hello?” “Hello?”, they both spoke in a giddy, cautious tone. No answer.
Byjove tried to make sense of his surroundings, but it was all too confusing. The basketball practice, the armadillo, the elevator, the bulb and the Jehovah Witnesses seemed to be part of a surreal 360 degree dream. He couldn't grasp how they all fit together.
As he watched the Jehovah Witnesses make their way into the living room Byjove tried to speak, but no words came out. He reached out to touch them, but his hand passed through their bodies as if they were ghosts. Byjove realized that he was indeed in a quantum state, and that the rules of 3 Dimensions no longer applied to him. What a groove. What a groove!
Suddenly, Byjove was surrounded by a bright blueish light, and a voice called out to him. “Byjove, it is time to make a choice. You can return to your physical body and continue your life as it was, or you can remain in this quantum state and experience the cosmos in ways you cannot yet imagine."
Byjove hesitated for a moment, considering his options. He had always been curious about the mysteries of the universe, and the prospect of exploring them in this new state was tempting. But he also had responsibilities and loved ones in the physical world, and he didn't want to abandon them.
After a moment of contemplation, Byjove made his decision. "I choose to return," he said. "I want to continue living and experiencing the physical world, even if it has its limitations."
With that, Byjove felt himself being pulled back into his body and seated on his upstairs toilet. Somewhat dazed he looked around, flushed the toilet and suddenly felt a sense of relief and gratitude. He knew that he had just experienced something deeply profound, but he also knew that there was much more to explore in this Earthly world around him.
Byjove headed downstairs to inspect the two nosey Jehovah witnesses who had let themselves in. “Hello” he said to them in a rather stern voice. The two girl’s were caught off guard and let out a heavy gasp. “Oh, you frightened us.” “Sorry but your front door was open and no one answered so…” Byjove stopped them in mid sentence. “It’s ok. I saw you from my upstairs bathroom.” The girls both looked at each other puzzled and just before they could respond Byjove let out a small cry. “Oh no, he said.” He clumsily made his way to his aunt’s urn that lie broken on the rug, her ashes scattered everywhere. He called for his dog. “Rondo.” Rondo, come here boy. But Rondo did not appear. All Byjove could think of was his dog’s transformation into a flying armadillo that knocked-over the urn. Where did he go? He couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and wonder. He realized that even though he was back in the physical world, the experience he had just had in the quantum state would stay with him forever. His train of thought became derailed as one of the Jehovah witnesses began speaking in tongues. It sounded like a cross between pig latin and spanglish, but he couldn’t make heads or tails of what she was saying. The other girl persisted on telling him that he needed to accept Jesus as his only savior before the end of the world would commence in two weeks. As he pulled himself together, he politely told them to leave the premises, shooing them to the front door. He knew that the strange experience he had was a gift, and he was grateful for it but they wouldn’t understand it. Byjove began to feel a pang of irritation. He didn't appreciate being proselytized to, especially in the midst of such a unique, surreal experience. But he also knew that the girl’s intentions were likely well-meaning, and he didn't want to be rude.
“Look, thank you for your concern," Byjove said, trying to sound polite but firm. "But I have my own spiritual beliefs, and I don't feel the need to convert."
The Jehovah witnesses persisted, trying to convince Byjove that his soul was in serious danger of being eaten by the devil. But Byjove remained steadfast in his response, repeating that he appreciated their concern but didn't want to switch his spiritual beliefs.
After a few more minutes of back-and-forth, the Jehovah witnesses finally relented. "Well, we’ll be on our way then," they said, sporting a tear in each eye. "But if you ever change your mind, here's a pamphlet.”
Byjove watched as the women schlepped their way out of his house and onto his manicured lawn heading toward his next door neighbor. He felt a sense of relief mixed with annoyance. He knew that religious dogma was a deeply personal matter, and he didn't appreciate feeling pressured to change his own. But he also knew that he couldn't control the actions of others, and he would simply have to accept that sometimes people would try to push their beliefs on him.
With a shrug, Byjove shut the front door. He turned his attention back to the ashes communing in the white shag carpet. Reluctantly, he went for his late aunt’s vacuum cleaner in the closet. As he opened the closet door a flying armadillo shot out above his head and seamlessly transformed into a rather big multicolored mosquito. It haphazardly jotted around the room. Alarmed at this, Byjove went commando. He snatched a Jehovah Witness pamphlet that was resting on a nearby table that supported an antique lamp his aunt had bequeathed him many years ago. His knee jerk reaction tipped the lamp over and it crashed to the ground into a million pieces. “Not again! What the hell?” He began angrily swatting at the mosquito like a madman eventually striking it down as it rested on the rim of a small basketball hoop velcroed to a wall . Though he knew the recent transformation of his dog into a flying armadillo then into a mosquito was some sort of profound quantum miracle, he was compelled to eat that mosquito, sautéed in his Aunt’s own ashes. He just had to. He was a strange guy that Byjove.

credits
from Artificial Tales Of Gleep and Whimsy (Vol. 1),
released November 1, 2023
JT : Effects, Mix
Sri Lanka : Voice
Dark Hoedar : Low Voice
Recorded and Mixed at Suburban Hermit Studios III, Ronkonkoma, NY
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