It was a harmless experiment at the Institute of Paranormalcy to test the power of reflected thoughts. Its title: "Reflective Amplification of Platonic Forms via Non-Platonic Imaginings." The hypothesis stated that mirrors might have the power to magnify the currents and impulses of strong visualizations in the frontal lobes. That's why Sara was daydreaming into the looking glass. Make it racy, they lab boy told her, and so she spun a negligee dance into the symmetric irreality. Reflections of her twirling form fashioned a web out of the nuanced light - swirls and blurs of her limbs in motion flared full into the glass. The men she dreamed stood stunned to silence, possessive eyes spinning dreams within the dream. They sighed in subservience to her, and breathed in rhythm with the sliding of her feet. On the life side of the mirror she sat like a sphinx in the deep concentration that her thoughts demanded. She felt grand lending her mind to studies of paranormal phenomena, took pride in the contribution her daytime fantasies made to the world of erotic archetypes. Maybe a ripple of what she imagined might weave into the thoughts of a great artist to inspire works of passion. Or tune a mood to subtle seduction. The lab boy, reading her thoughts as he left the room, scratched the back of his head. He'd seen her at the disco one night, and knew quite well that she couldn't dance.
Story #370
7 comments:
Rick had always been a loner on the outside, but it took prison to make him feel lonesome. Throughout a troubled life, Rick had alienated his few friends, embarrassed his parents, offended his brother and eaten his sister. There had been no wife, no girlfriend, no romantic entanglements of any kind, save for what they found under his front porch. During his sentence, a time of penitence, reflection and the cannibalism of strangers, Rick came to wish for someone to care and share with, a love beyond digestion.
Everyday when visiting hours came around, Rick watched the other inmates go to visit their loved ones. While receiving the eucharist, Rick received also the pity of the Priest who spoke to his congregation, asking for a young woman to befriend the lonesome young killer. When his efforts failed, he turned to the nuns and then, finally, he cut out the face from a magazine to place opposite the lonesome man during visiting hours.
At first Rick was inspired. He effervesced into the phone, sharing his thoughts and secrets with the picture through the window. Later, Rick would lament his crimes, sobbing against the glass. But finally, Rick turned his back on the woman he'd come to share his life with when he realized the photo wasn't printed on rice paper.
Doug. ......I'm snickering but Ioften wonder what really goes on in that mind of yours.
Oh! That Photograph.... It instantly creates a circus of words inside your head.... If only I wasn't this busy. Hope You're doing fine. Smile, anyways.
God! Look at that guy. Could he be more cro-mangon?
he's such a hobo
he's scratching - urgh!
he's got cooties - hah - wait'll I tell Shona...
he wears a hoodie - a hoodie!
cute butt tho
he DID come to my concert
maybe he likes the oboe
as if...get a grip!
He's probably just the cleaner.
Wonder if he's single...
Nah. Probably not.
Cute tho.
Shy. Quiet.
Wonder if...
"Um. Excuse me..."
Cooper, I think I was just hungry when I wrote that.
it's a very slow time of year for the blogesphere.
My comments are extremely late - as always, I'm afraid to read any of the other stories, until I've finished my own, which in this case took a long time....
Doug: Your story was delicious. About time we had a cannibalism story. Actually, I feel quite hungry now.
Cooper: Maybe Doug's on a diet right now.
The Clown: Alway a nice feeling when you stop by. I admire your creativity.
Lynsey: That may well be what goes on in a gal's mind, before she decides to move in on a guy.
Doug: Guten appetit.
Post a Comment