Day 3
Have you ever been in silence for an extended period of time, and after chasing the tail of a spiraling thought, been caught off guard by a whimper of sound climbing your throat, and actually jumped back in recoil? No. Well, as of today, I have.
I can’t actually pinpoint the last sound of life I heard, nor whether or not one initially escaped my throat today. Yet, the vibration alone was enough to startle me. Then, realizing I had only been afraid of myself, laughter pocketed my focus and held me in its warm embrace, and for the first time, I actually found myself thankful for the absence of others. Had there been a crowd to witness, I am quite sure I would have appeared delirious.
That moment aside, or not withstanding…either way, this day has been a strange one. To put it bluntly, I feel like I took a dart to the temple, with the metal tip remaining caught and occasionally scratching the surface of my brain, tangling the thoughts beneath its point.
Flashes of memory, or dream, or fantasy….or, I don’t know, but they’ve come and gone like whispers sewn into a fleeting breeze. I find myself confused, and truly wishing for someone to talk to.
Am I going crazy? If so, is writing here cathartic or only adding wood to the fire? Of course, if I am losing my mind, what’s one more match thrown into the sun? It won’t change the lighting of my day, or the shadows of this place. I’m sorry, me. I’ve strayed from the point. Today was odd.
I found myself strolling down an abandoned sidewalk, wondering this barren landscape of skeletal buildings connected by fossil roads like the dried, petrified veins of a dead, moved on society, when I came across something familiar and strangely inviting, a McDonald’s restaurant.
It could have been memories of meals past, or just the shiny, reflective glow of the fresh red and gold everywhere, but it called to me none the less. Once through the door, the absence of scent and sound was apparent, as my nostrils and ears expected to find the songs of beef and potatoes frying, but those siren songs remained housed in unfounded lungs. Aimlessly, I continued in.
There was no surprise when a swipe of my finger over the counter returned without dust. It was as everything here, left behind and unused, but somehow brand new and kept. Though it had been weeks since a customer stood there and pondered the bright, almost neon, menu, I’d have sworn the age did not show, and a cleansing rag had been swirled over the surface only hours, minutes, before, and then it hit me.
Suddenly, there were people all around me alive with sound and pushed by the current of life. At the counter a woman held one hand in her purse, while pointing high at the menu with the other, as the number 3 spilled from her lips.
Spinning around, I found the dining area full of patrons, and then as soon as it had come, it was gone. Only empty tables and a hollow room stared back at me. Unable to find any other response, I began to laugh.
“What was that?” I said to no one with a near frantic laugh, and when no one failed to answer, I walked away from the counter. Beside the bank of fountain drinks on a bench sat a lifeless ceramic Ronald McDonald, a statue that waved at me with one leg crossed over the other before blank, and near hysterically jubilant eyes.
With no one else to turn to, to share this moment with, I strode to stand, and then sit beside the statue. As I sat there, muttering some incoherent words to Ronald with a smirk of my own, it happened again, though much quicker this time. Like an inverted blink, the world was there and alive, and then it was gone.
Feeling uncomfortable and slightly rattled, I fled the building into the silence of the empty planet surrounding it.
There was more, but again night threatens, and I find the need to take shelter. So, I will return to this tomorrow, should tomorrow come. If it fails and jumps from the tracks of time, well…well, then I guess I won’t.
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