He sat alone and wondered deeply of the complexity of his world. He could see others like him; sat frozen in place, unable to move or speak. All they had to accompany them were their thoughts.
What was he? What would he be the next time? A writer? A poet? Or maybe a daredevil stunt-man? And what would the woman who sat immovable beside him be? A midwife? A housewife? Or maybe a Sunday School Teacher? Or the child to his left - what would she be? It seemed so strange to him, to see her so still. She should move, he wanted her to run and play like children should. He wanted to move, to speak and shout and wake all these sleeping forms! But he was powerless to do so. He sat in a cold, bleak, merciless world. Its doors shut, its windows closed. When would he awake again? When would he see the woman smile, or the child laugh? Time seemed to run on indefinitely. His eternity seemed closer than reality. A single, sorrowful tear rolled down his pale cheek. Then a light flashed on, his world brightened. He found himself wearing a clown suit, and big, floppy shoes. He began to perform a circus act, with the woman, a juggler, to his right; the child, a trapeze artist, to his left.
"Look at him dance!" echoed a child's small voice. "Look at him, Mommy! He's so funny!"
"Yes, dear. But remember, it's only on T.V.. It's not real," the mother replied.
"I know, but it's still good."
Back inside the voices but only echoed, a swift and passing moment in the man's life. Then the light went out, the room grew dark. Again the man sat silent, frozen in his place, with only his thoughts for company. What would he be the next time...?
finis
Back to the Various Stories.
