How many gulps does it take to get to the bottom of a bottle of red wine? This is not a question for the Tootsie Pop Owl. The owl would probably guess “three,” if you know anything about the owl. However, the owl has no fucking clue what its talking about when it comes to this particular bottle of Petit Syrah.
I could tell you. Or, at least, I could have told you, had I started counting when the drinking began. But I didn’t, and now here we are, three-fourths of the way through the bottle, and not a gulp to be counted.
Traditionally, the only things I count these days are ceiling tiles and the number of seconds my hands spend washing themselves underneath a faucet.
Tradition aside, there’s very little I count, because my unnoticed presumption is that the answer has already been provided: infinity. There are endless friends, endless experiences, endless moments, endless accomplishments, endless ideas, endless joy. My body may die someday, but my imagination is immortal.
With such a gift as immortality, one would think I’d use my mind more wisely. My ideas wouldn’t be so frivolous. I guess it’s kind of ridiculous to think I could police my imagination, though — keep it on track and focused on the things that REALLY matter. But honestly, who knows what REALLY matters, anyway?
This isn’t fiction.
It’s supposed to be, you know. The guidelines were pretty clear. But I can’t make things up tonight. There’s too much fear and uncertainty; everything ominous is too low in the sky. I can’t simply close my eyes and create an imaginary world. I know what exists on the other side of my eyelids: Fear.
Pretend I’m a hippo. No, that’s not right. Pretend I’m a snake, curled around branches. Lazy and bored, watching time pass. I could kill whatever I wanted, but that would take effort. Instead, simply picture my form — green, smooth, more or less spooning a branch. I’m watching you. I’m not counting your steps.
I’d eat the owl, you know. Swallow it up in one gulp. Not three — just one.
Now it’s fiction.
©2020 by Kat Atwell. All rights reserved.