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Cyber-Gish | GishTeq
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Friday / April 18th / 2003
Shadow ring...

Let's just say that he could not stop shaking his head back and forth when he heard the news. Again, the same old news. He took to the corner and sat down on the nearest chair, somewhat precluded by the shadow that was not there. They must have told him that a thousand times by now, so it was certainly nothing new. Even though they kept on insisting, he knew they were wrong and that there was a better way.

You see, if it is such a vital part of his personality, one of the core aspects of development, a stage he still has to go through, then why should they expect him to have to get rid of it? Before it even happened? As if ripping out some vital organ because it was not functioning properly could ever be the cure to all his problems. Shame on them for thinking that. Shame on them trying to make him think that also.

Yet every single time he went back they said that he would seriously have to consider removing it completely from his psyche. Rip it out, so to say. Strange how much they insisted, almost as if they were sincerely afraid of the consequences. The so-called consequences to him, to his surrounding, to the things that were and were not there, whatever.

This is the shadow ring...He knew better than that, but he also knew that they would never change their minds. Professionals, well educated and stubborn. Thinking that they knew it better. So he had a plan, and it was a very ingenious scheme, he had to admit even to himself. Not that he liked to brag. Chuckling quietly to himself, he thought out this plan one more time. It would be the very last time. The final reckoning, just like some film that was about to be released for the very first time, a premier. Sitting there on his chair in the corner, he knew that it was high time for action.

And this is what he had in mind. You see, since he could not extricate this core nucleus of his being and survive, it would be necessary to repackage it into another form. The essence would remain the same, but the outer shell would be changed in order for the concealment to work. He compared it to taking a small and invaluable gift, putting it in a differently shaped box, and then to convince them even more, re-wrapping all of it in a completely new and improved wrapping paper. A repackaged deal, what a discount! Fantastic! Forget about the ribbon, that would only give it all away in the end.

So that is exactly what he did. In the end.

That afternoon when they found him lying outside on the ground right in front of the river flowing by, he looked very, very peaceful. Oh dear, what had happened now? Was it our fault? They tried to wake him up, but at first he remained motionless, nothing happened. Finally, he opened his eyes and smiled up at them. Just a bunch of shadows surrounding him and asking all these questions. Questions, questions and even more questions. Never any answers.

He got up and brushed the dust and blades of grass from his pants. He ran his fingers through his hair and readjusted his cap which had slipped ever so slightly over his left ear curling it down. Then he went on and on about how it had been extricated. Yes it had. How it had disappeared with ease, so surprisingly fast. He felt better, and they could see that also. They had never seen him smile like this before. He's cured, he must be cured!

Little did they know that the form, the thing, the core of his inner being, the glob of hardened clay, that corner of the shadow over in the far distance, was still there. In the same place, in the same dimension of time, but it had taken on a new and pleasing form which concealed itself quite nicely. Concealed and yet ever present, if they looked.

They also felt happy for him as he walked away in the distance. They were relieved they would not have to continue repeating the same thing to him over and over again. Save some money, a fine discount indeed!

The man thought some more, turned the corner and went his merry way. No longer would he have to try and save this part of him from being taken away.


~ Posted at 05:35 PM | Short fiction
  
So far there are 4 comments.

I liked this :) Made me feel all good inside !
Posted by deb at April 18, 2003 06:02 PM


Well, at least someone liked it. To be honest, rather than make me feel good inside, thinking about and then composing this piece of short fiction made me feel angry. Probably because the (subconscious) reason I wrote it was to deal with similar frustrations (and the hopes that someday I would also be able to deal with it in a similar way as the hero of the story).
Posted by Kiffin at April 19, 2003 11:04 AM


I like it. It's a shame the man had to leave that part of himself just sitting there. It would have been nice to have it in portable form, maybe disquised as a satchel that he could carry with him. I, too, see the horror of the story. I remember my youth and my elders, who certainly wished to 'extricate' things from me, 'for my own good, of course'. Thus, these things always are. Keep all parts of yourself. Make sure the mask is detachable, if you must wear one. Remove it occasionally, so that it doesn't adhere itself too tightly. Sometimes, reality sucks...
Posted by Joan Lansberry at April 26, 2003 07:10 AM


A very interesting twist Joan, thanks alot. The only problem with a satchel is that it would represent an external (though) portable form. The whole idea was to prevent any form of extrication in the first place. Sometimes it is better to keep the mask in place, just for good measure. When properly adorned, it represents a limited and then acceptable discomfort which more than compensates the reality that in your words sucks.
Posted by Kiffin at April 26, 2003 10:36 AM


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"Most of the important things in the world have been accomplished by people who have kept on trying when there seemed to be no hope at all..."  - - Dale Carnegie.


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