Monday, July 25, 2016

I’m writing this book to set the record straight.

Everyone seems to know the truth. While truth stands away, leaning against a wall, with an apple in her hands. She watches bemused as she takes mid - sized bites of the crisp red fruit. All these people, so smug in the comfort of their realities, carrying the weight of their ignorance as a hurting back, neck pain, shoulder knots or all.

I was there. I saw it. I saw her pick it up. She looked at it for a long time. She wished it could stay like that forever. If it could she would not have done that. But since it couldn’t, she went ahead and did it. I saw her take out the knife and make a clean slice through the center. A perfect half.

And then she saw it. A blotch on the south west corner of the right half. She looked at it like it was not real. Like that unmistakable blotch was somehow a mistake. A blotch on that which was so perfect she would have kept it forever,  but because she could not, she did not.

She looked away and made a quick decision. The jury of the many minds that lived in that mind had made a unanimous decision; for once; well almost. Only one mind of the many minds was sort of unconvinced. But that was quickly voted out.

She felt weak for a jiffy. One hundredth of a second, that’s exactly how long she felt weak for. Then she picked it up and flung it out of the window in front of her. And as it flew out, it knocked out the apple that lay on top of the pile in the basket by the window. It fell outside, unharmed. 

It was red and crisp like the sun.






posted by Fly @ 8:13 PM  

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