I hold an eight-coloured umbrella upside-down, letting bulbous water pockets splotch into the bowl but only from yellow segments – like lime-wedges you plug beer with, but yellower – on which CurvaceousCanary perches superciliously, also a little precariously, loses its lahdidah ballet-dancer poise and falls ungracefully into Soup D’Monsoon Petrichor, just when CovidCat gets guts and strings the guitar, no less superciliously, for CurvilicousCanary who’s now crooning a cabernet, making half-moon eyes at CovidCat, asking for his references, “What’s your poison?”, to which he answers, whiskers whirling, “I’m Murakami’s.”
Mindfills of musings for Sammiscribbles weekend writing prompt – Downpour (88 word challenge) & MindLoveMisery’s – uncontrollable Nonsense & Fandango’s FOWC – Reference
I gave up on feeling brave a long time ago. I’m a pretender. The human I was when I was born, got trafficked to some random realm, infinitely lost. I can pinpoint the exact time and space where I splinter into shards of possibilities and make that irrevokable choice to pack my atom into one of them.
I was nine when I first realised my atom had a wicked window. A warp I could step into, for a brief ….well, I can’t say time because I don’t lose or gain any. I can’t say space or world or colour or sound…but just for the sake of a word, let’s say Aure, so I step into the Aure and live in it infinite. Or get back to my prewarp storyline. As a nine year old, I was smug. It was like a superpower. I took myself into these worlds on a whim. A little adventure while I was waiting for my yellow school bus or in the middle of a skirmish with Alia. Time waited. For me. I knew I’d be back with nothing changed. And no one noticed I had. Changed just a little bit. I was carrying with me the possibility I had seen and lived through. And then it happened and I was changed. Forever.
Each time I’d travel into an Aure or for that matter, into several at one go, I’d become heavier. No. Not fat. It was like gravity pulled me closer, but paradoxically, my atom could also take off, unfettered by any reality that told me I can’t. I lost that nine year old a few months later. I remember the moment like it is coursing through each cell in my body. In the now. As I speak. I took my atom into an Aure and never went back. And then into another and so on. Time went where it did. swaying, cartwheeling, whirling like a mad shaman. Never, not once, in a straight line. I gave up on feeling brave a long time ago. I’m a pretender.
MindLoveMisery’s First line Friday
JibberJabber Sue’s TIME