Pondering at Eleven

One time I had a zit right under my nose. I was content to ignore it, but it grew, and grew, and grew until I couldn’t breathe through my left nostril. Now, I know my mom told me not to do this, but I took my two index fingers and pressed down on the skin next to the zit.

“You better not do that,” the zit cried out.

I stopped pressing down. “I wouldn’t but, you’ve become a bit of a burden” I said.

“Suit yourself” the zit replied.

So I pressed down even harder next to the zit. I pressed down with all my might, with all the will in the world to save my face from the zit forever.

BOOM! My head exploded. The zit did not.

“Ahh! Put my head back. Put it back together.”

But the zit had other plans. With its steady growth, the zit grew to the size of my head in just a few days. Very few people noticed the difference. It went about its happy new life for a few weeks before it grew a new zit. Zit #2 grew bigger and bigger till Zit #1 just couldn’t take it anymore and decided it was time to pop it.

“You better not do that.”

Zit #1’s head exploded minutes later.

This cycle continued for years. A zit would grow to the size of my head and in a few weeks would grow another zit. It would try to pop it, but would just explode instead. People gave me a nickname, Mr. Zit.

Everything was going fine until Mr. Tumor showed up. H just kept growing and growing and growing despite any efforts to pop him. He eventually took over my head and everything went back to business. Everything was just dandy.

Until I died.

My head was waiting for me in the afterlife. When I got there it was joyous reunion. Two days later I got a zit and it just kept growing and growing.