Peas and Bubbles
December 2nd 2009 02:23
So after a very, very long pause from putting up new posts, I now put up a short story I wrote recently. It's a little personal.
Peas and Bubbles
(Please close your eyes and take two slow deep breaths before reading this)
It was much like a plastic film, hermetically sealed and surrounding his body half an inch above his skin; except that it was as hard as glass, as fluid as water, and completely transparent. He knew the bubble as well as he knew his best friend. The bubble only existed to him; for he was the only one who felt its existence. Nobody else ever sensed its existence.
While walking to the school cafeteria his bubble moved along with him, perfectly following his every movement and still half an inch above his skin. The hallway was jammed full with the usual crowds of fellow students; freshmen clogging up the hallway chatting about new music, two seniors slumped against a locker kissing, an angry math teacher chasing down a shady looking figure. In the overbearingly white fluorescent lights, none of it mattered. They didn’t notice him anyway.
Stomach growling, he picked up his lunch tray. He smiled at a guy he knew in his geometry class, wearing a red baseball cap. He watched expectantly as the sunshield of the cap turn away. The lunch lady picked up a small plastic bowl, slopped in a ladleful of peas, slapped on a wad of mashed potato and onion. She continued working as he passed by, never looking up from her endless chore to receive or acknowledge a passing “thanks”. He looked disappointedly at his tray, and made his way for a table next to the window. A gaggle of young girls gave him nervous looks as he sat down in the seat adjacent to the window.
He picked up his fork, and began pushing around the soft heaps of mashed potato and peas. Trying desperately to amuse himself, he squinted into the mushy green mess to attempt to look for patterns. Stir. An “X” appeared. Stir. His dog’s face appeared. Stir. Music crept into his mind, playing some strained chords. A morass of musical notes appeared among the peas. He shut his eyes, and pressed his fists into them. The people sitting at his table gave him odd looks. He leaned back, and his invisible bubble pushed away all the people sitting behind him like leaves in the wind. They left while he tried to apologize for his accidental disruption.
It was an exercise he had done before, as he had discovered long ago in his childhood while bored out of his mind during naptime. Patterns of blue, green and gold appeared before him, forever changing shape. He tried to blink. Green turned to red. He tried to blink again, and the blue turned black. He opened his eyes, trying to blink out the endless fractals of colours. Little faces appeared all over the peas. He frowned.
Picking up his spoon, he scooped some peas. Closely examining them, the little faces were everywhere, from in the dimples of the individual peas to the watery spaces between each grain of potato starch. The put them into his mouth, and chewed.
Oblivious to the strange stares from his classmates, he opened his mouth. He turned to the window, and examined the contents of his mouth. By now he was the last man sitting at the table; everyone had left. Undeterred, he stared at the mass of chewed peas. The faces had disappeared.
Peas and Bubbles
(Please close your eyes and take two slow deep breaths before reading this)
It was much like a plastic film, hermetically sealed and surrounding his body half an inch above his skin; except that it was as hard as glass, as fluid as water, and completely transparent. He knew the bubble as well as he knew his best friend. The bubble only existed to him; for he was the only one who felt its existence. Nobody else ever sensed its existence.
While walking to the school cafeteria his bubble moved along with him, perfectly following his every movement and still half an inch above his skin. The hallway was jammed full with the usual crowds of fellow students; freshmen clogging up the hallway chatting about new music, two seniors slumped against a locker kissing, an angry math teacher chasing down a shady looking figure. In the overbearingly white fluorescent lights, none of it mattered. They didn’t notice him anyway.
Stomach growling, he picked up his lunch tray. He smiled at a guy he knew in his geometry class, wearing a red baseball cap. He watched expectantly as the sunshield of the cap turn away. The lunch lady picked up a small plastic bowl, slopped in a ladleful of peas, slapped on a wad of mashed potato and onion. She continued working as he passed by, never looking up from her endless chore to receive or acknowledge a passing “thanks”. He looked disappointedly at his tray, and made his way for a table next to the window. A gaggle of young girls gave him nervous looks as he sat down in the seat adjacent to the window.
He picked up his fork, and began pushing around the soft heaps of mashed potato and peas. Trying desperately to amuse himself, he squinted into the mushy green mess to attempt to look for patterns. Stir. An “X” appeared. Stir. His dog’s face appeared. Stir. Music crept into his mind, playing some strained chords. A morass of musical notes appeared among the peas. He shut his eyes, and pressed his fists into them. The people sitting at his table gave him odd looks. He leaned back, and his invisible bubble pushed away all the people sitting behind him like leaves in the wind. They left while he tried to apologize for his accidental disruption.
It was an exercise he had done before, as he had discovered long ago in his childhood while bored out of his mind during naptime. Patterns of blue, green and gold appeared before him, forever changing shape. He tried to blink. Green turned to red. He tried to blink again, and the blue turned black. He opened his eyes, trying to blink out the endless fractals of colours. Little faces appeared all over the peas. He frowned.
Picking up his spoon, he scooped some peas. Closely examining them, the little faces were everywhere, from in the dimples of the individual peas to the watery spaces between each grain of potato starch. The put them into his mouth, and chewed.
Oblivious to the strange stares from his classmates, he opened his mouth. He turned to the window, and examined the contents of his mouth. By now he was the last man sitting at the table; everyone had left. Undeterred, he stared at the mass of chewed peas. The faces had disappeared.
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