third eye

john f. marok. morning sun. 30"x40" oil/canvas

king tumbleweed had unknowingly collapsed in a state of sensory overload. while unconscious he dreamt of fresh fruit, smooth silk, warm and cool refreshing water, flute sonatas, purring cats.  when he came back to consciousness he was throwing up, diarrhea, headache, itching hives all over his body. this is what happened in the moment of his collapse:
wind returned with vengeance and blew off the king's toupee exposing his smooth pate. king tumble's head resembled the hemispherical dome of mauna kea observatory glinting in the dust and moisture-free atmosphere and full sun of hawaii. not only was it's resemblance extraordinary, his hair-free scalp also revealed a secret that paralleled the observatory's purpose, a secret that had never before been exposed, not to his mother, his wives, his brother, his hairdresser: the king had a third eye, right at the north pole, dead centre on top, looking upward, unblinking, glowing, emotionless.

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