Flights of Fancy

to let go

It was a sunny day, but it had rained all afternoon. I'd been waiting all week for a book to arrive, and it arrived that day, but it arrived torn to pieces. The website didn't offer a refund, it didn't accept returns. The thing was impossible to read. There was no other choice but to throw it away, I recognized that. But when I stood over the trash can, I got vertigo. Why, this was basically a black hole, and it spiralled in my eyes. This was a monster with a mouth open wide to receive, and I swear I could see sharp teeth and salivation. Why, this was an active volcano, and if the sun shined right, the salivation had the same color as lava.

This wasn't a difficult move by any means, all I had to do was let go of the grip of my hand on the book. But I kept bringing it to my nose, and by god, it had such a wonderful smell. How could something so broken still be so beautiful?

"There is fault in being overly sensitive," she said, standing behind me with her arms crossed, "and sometimes you can be such an insensitive asshole."

I sighed. "I know my attachment to inanimate objects is irrational."

"But then again, you haven't been the proudest promoter of rationality, have you?" She had a way of piercing my skin with a needle that reached straight for my heart.

"You always miss my point. I never said I liked irrationality. I don't believe anyone is irrational by choice. I think there's always a rational reason behind irrational actions."

"Even Jack's actions?"

She took my mind elsewhere, to Jack and his overly invasive surgery. How behind the reason for growing his hair out was this surgery where they put this zipper running across his forehead which he could use to open his head. But why need to open his head, everyone including me asked. And Jack spoke to us as he let the water run in the kitchen sink and filled the sprinkler with it.

"I need to water my brain every once in a while to let it grow. A farmer like me, I'm born with such a small brain."

I smirked at the memory. "Well, isn't that kind of a rational reason? I don't understand why you had to mention 'brainwashing' to him."

"You guys have a way of taking everything too literally."

"And you guys have a way of being too cryptic."

"You have a way of taking everything too seriously, like throwing away something useless."

And when she said 'useless' I heard a disembodied, muffled scream. I attributed it to the book in my hand.

I thought about Dave, and what he said to Jack. "The brain can't grow. You gotta live with what you've got. No amounts of water or sugar are ever going to ease the pain you feel when you sprain that brain of yours."

My temples hurt at the thought. "Well, if the alternative is blind acceptance of a doctrine, I'd rather water my brain and see if it grows."

I could smell her disapproval behind me. All this told me was that the smell of this book was overpowering, stronger than any other smell. I took one last sniff before I walked toward the bookshelf.