Years ago, I wandered into a flea market and saw a life sized oil painting of Hannibal Lecter wearing his cannibal mask. At the time it was just within the range of things I could afford if I were to empty my bank account. It was Hannibal “The Cannibal” Lecter. Wearing his cannibal mask. They had added rainbow glitter to his eyeballs as if in some twisted allusion to Yeats via Thomas Harris. I stood starting at it for a good five minutes. “It’s so beautiful,” I thought to myself. But then I realized that if I had it hanging in my apartment, people would think I was weird or something. So I walked away.
I walked away. And then I woke up at 4:00 in the morning, horrified by what I had done. It was as though I had decided to relinquish true love forever. Good God, what had I done? Why didn’t I carry it home gently in my arms, waving it at strangers as I passed? I ran down to the flea market as soon as it opened the next morning, but it was too late. Hannibal had been sold. I have never found another flea market oil painting find like it. It was the one perfect thing that I was supposed to buy. Now, because of my own foolishness, much like Paolo and Francesca in Dante’s Inferno, Hannibal Lecture Oil Painting and I are kept eternally divided by the winds of fate and bad timing, never to be as one. Though I still believe we will be together one day. I believe we’ll be together in heaven.
I don’t want that to happen to you. Buy this wall clock immediately. It’s $25.