...to Keep My Head Above Water and Maybe Figure Some Stuff Out. I'm playing out lines of thinking, not positing truths. Let's play. (see timelesspitch.com and whichwrites.com for writer CA Ives)
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
I was feeling playful and laughing at myself so he slipped in pretty easily. I felt him right away, a part of me that I've been missing. But I'm still pretty mad at him for abandoning me.
"I'm here. Or you're imaging I'm here."
"It creeps me out, you watching me. If you're watching me, I want to see you."
"I am looking."
"Look for something else."
"No. No cryptic stuff. Clear. Light of day."
"What if cryptic is all I can do?"
"Do it better."
"Hold out your hand."
I held out my hand.
"Notice the shadow of your hand reflected in the mirror. See your fingers, there?"
"Yes. Okay, but don't just shake the shadow or something, that's just me moving. Make it close and open, or wave or something."
As I watched, the reflected shadow hand began, almost imperceptibly, to grow. The fingers lengthened. I could see them snaking along the wall, reaching for the shadows behind the cabinet, impossibly long, the tips disappearing. My hands tingled. For a second, the index finger barely seemed to beckon, a tiny mocking shake.
Another trick of the light. Another goddamn trick of the light. Do you think parlor tricks are still good enough?
"No. No shadows. Out in the light. I want to see you."
I closed my hand and pulled the shadow into a tight ball. I shook it out.
I felt his despair in my own chest.
"It's just how you see."
(lost? the Maverick trail ended here: http://mrs-which.blogspot.com/2010/08/muddy-waters.html and previous incarnations are listed at the end of that post)