Existence Deconstructed

I believe I understand, said Pliny the Elder, why you held back from offering help to your mother when she was planting her petunias.

You do? I said, surprised.

I do, said Pliny. You did not wish to spoil her pleasure in a small task she enjoys. You did not wish to interfere, or to diminish her dignity as a person.

That is partly true, Pliny, I agreed. The other reason is that I dislike petunias.

Oh! said Pliny, that is a great deal less admirable, Why do you dislike them?

I don't know. Probably because she likes them so much.

Well! said Pliny. Perhaps I should delve no further into this.

Perhaps you shouldn't, I agreed. But tell me, what did you think of my existential companion piece, on the petrol vouchers and gold bottle top?

I did not quite know what to make of it, said Pliny. It was as if you thought what happened was in some way representative of human existence. But any other person would have put down the unwanted petrol vouchers and the bottle top at once.

Where, for example? I challenged.

You were in the car, were you not? I know that car. There are many little nooks and crannies where one might temporarily deposit a small piece of rubbish. The drink holder, the glove box, the space under the radio, said Pliny.

Go on, I said.

That space behind the door handle, the back seat, the floor, continued Pliny, warming up.

You are correct Pliny, I said. Another person may have put the rubbish in any one of those places. And remembered, or not remembered, to take the rubbish inside when they got home. But there is a key to every person. And these two pieces on existence were the key to me.

Aha! said Pliny suddenly, after thinking for a moment. I have it! Inaction!