Tuesday, May 15, 2007

- I walk along a corridor. Girls are seated on a bench to my right. They are all pretty, clothed in varied tones and cuts of black material. I glance at the faces and forms as I walk by. I join with them mentally, bathing at once in the wild mixture of curiosity and skepticism their eyes betray. I desire them. Each of them. Sometimes the face is partially covered, a dark scarf concealing the mysteries beneath. Lovely banditas. The wall behind is lined with photographs and posters - an occasional face there reminds me of one I saw perhaps thirty seconds ago, but when I return the way I came, I cannot find who it might have been. So I move forwards along the wall of femininity that tempts me with each and every facet of color, form and expression. I attempt to speak to one, than another of the girls. Variations of "Where is this place?" or "Wasn't that you in the photograph I just saw?" Eyes turn upwards to view me. I feel them study me with interest, but the reply is another language whose syllables I cannot decipher, and there is no revelation in the girl's features as to what my questions mean to her. So I continue. Walking. Walking. Walking.

- Describe the corridor.

- It is a corridor without end. Or maybe this is an illusion created by a slight lengthwise convexity of the inner wall, matched by an equal concavity in the outer wall. But if that is so, the walls curve as the surface of the Earth curves, so minutely and negligibly, that it is impossible to perceive. It might be a corridor along a ring of Saturn. But all this remains a vague nuance. It is the girls who command my attention.

- Now I want you to concentrate. To think. This next question is vitally important. Let us say there are four phenomena of the mind. Four categories, antiseptically distinct. There are real perceptions. There are hallucinations. There are daydreams; and finally there are dreams of sleep, perhaps even nightmares. Each of these mind-events leaves indelible traces: memories, the documents we turn over in our hands later and examine front to back for details determined by the intensity of the phenomenon. Look closely at that document you hold now and trace its lineage to the source.

- It's no use. I've tried again and again but I can't. I am terrified that this memory lives, and that I cannot determine its origin. I close my eyes to conjure it forth again. I search for the slightest clue. I dream the memory at night and approach one of the girls to ask if she is an hallucination. But her reply is as meaningless as in the memory.

- Still I feel that we are much nearer now to the truth. But I'm afraid the time is up. We must end the session for today. You will think of these questions, won't you? And we'll continue again next time?

- Yes. I will. We will.

She rose from the plush leather couch that had embraced her form. The therapist watched her. She might be 15. She might be 20, or even 25. Oh to have lain on that couch with her, he thought, instead of this mere exchange of words! He gave a noncommittal glance as she moved towards the door, opened it, and vanished from his sight into the hall. But she did not cease to exist. She scanned the corridor from left to right in search of a vacant place to sit. But each spot on the bench was occupied by a girl she had never seen before. From behind the door the therapist's voice called a name she did not recognize. One of the girls on the bench rose and entered the chamber, leaving a vacant seat behind her.

Story #392

Thanks to everyone who posted a story, despite my having been away so long!

17 comments:

The OE said...

Julia, being a new secret agent, tried to be creative in masking a conversation wither her operations team while counter intelligence group was next to her at the movies. Julia made a bad choice as her cover was blown and she was dragged into the bathroom by the enemy agents and interrogated.

Doug said...

Just watched 28 Days and taking no chances.

Hobbes said...

Teen religious education was boring until Cynthia and her talking Beanie Baby began disputing with the teacher.

Ba Doozie said...

"I wonder what those girls problem is" thought Mandi. She had agreed to see a movie with two girls she met in statistics class last week. The class was so painfully boring that a comraderie of sorts had formed between the 3 girls. Occasionally life throws you together with different people whom you would normally not associate with, and this seemed to be one of those times for Mandi.

Her life had thus far consisted of education, education, and more education. Her father had pushed her into a program at the Universtity that she was not altogether thrilled with. Having a Ph.d. in Molecular Biology had not been a goal of hers as she was growing up. It was instead her fathers idea of a good career to become involved in. His reasoning was explained again and again, but the logistics of it eluded her.

What could be more boring than day after day of laboratory experiments and formula's? Some day she would work for a pharmacuetical company, of that she was sure. In the meantime she managed to spend her free time daydreaming of her true passion in life.....drawing cartoonsi.

Not just any cartoons, but Political Cartoons, Yes, Mandi had a passion for politics and throughout her life she had followed Politics religiously. Unfortunatelym her knowledge had jaded her and left her with a cynical attitude toward the general subject. Instead of embracing the relm of politics, she had managed to apply her sordid fondness by twisiting a figure in such a way as to create an anomaly that could not soon be forgotten.

Her father was unaware of her passion, and she intended to keep it that way. Some day....someday she would flourish in the world of satirical artists but for now? She settled for consorting with fellow students who felt the sting of confusion involved in first year doctorate students...students who developed strange and unusual hangups.....

Laryhcious said...

I just want to say that your blog inspired me. =)

Indeterminacy said...

OE: Thanks for contributing! I wonder if Julia might in reality have been a double or even a triple agent?

Doug: You get all the cool new movies living stateside. If you mean I might keep you all hanging for 28 days until I drag out some story, no worries. It's almost finished :-)

Hobbes: Think of all the lives that could be saved if religion would go back to being boring.

Ba Doozie: Wow! What a psyhcogram you drew! Thank you for taking so much time with this. I never thought university when I saw the picture.

Laryhcious: Thank you very much for the kind compliment.

I see have to add some new links to my sidebar....

My story will be posted tomorrow, Monday. Unless I get sick of polishing it and post it tonight.

Tom & Icy said...

We all stuffed ourselves with bean barritos at dinner, then went out to wait on the bus. Marsha and I had extra helpings and as we waited on the bus, we stood on either side of Penny and Sue. Then we let them have it. Oh, I know it isn't polite for girls to fart in public, but we just couldn't resist!

Princess Haiku said...

Hi Indy,
This is an intriguing photo and I waiting on the muse. It's nice to see you are up and rolling again.

Indeterminacy said...

Princess Haiku: I thought this photo stood out - anyway, I was intrigued too. No wonder I feel so dizzy lately, with all this rolling around. ;-)

Hobbes said...

Nice, Indie. I enjoyed the twists and turns.
Having been involved in religious warfare on my own planet, I emphatically agree with you about the value of boredom. And most of the talking Beanie Babies I have known reminded me of Pansi.

Frances bo bancess said...

"But her reply is as meaningless as in the memory", i really, really like that line. and the whole story really challenges the way we see and understand things... it also kinda makes me want to go to the therapist that has managed to set up a practice in the orbit of saturn... if it, or saturn for that matter, really exists at all...

Indeterminacy said...

Thanks Frances for your comment - every comment is important and helpful to me to understand what exactly I'm doing. For this story especially I was wondering what kind of an effect it might have. The line you singled out - I wondered a long time if the connection to the first part of the story was too obtuse. Well - now I'm glad I wrote it that way.

Mavin said...

I arrived home from my lake house today. While I was up there I watched movie after movie, read a couple of books and then listened to music. Some movies I watched over multiple times, I watched Fear and Loathing in Las Veags three times during the duration of three consecutive nights that's how interesting that story was to me. So I have been pretty well exercised with stories lately. Then I get to come home to read these wonderful stories you've written. I haven't been here in a long while so I decided to come by to see if anything has been written lately, while well in fact there has been. This story, for one, is an astonishingly well written story as well as the others you've recently written but for a good moment there I felt and envisioned like I was there viewing all of this transpiring before my eyes. Tricking me into the plot while the vortex of the story gripped my mind and never let go until the ending conclusion fell into place.

Unfortunately I can't write more for a comment at this time because there are large storms starting to brew from the west side of Texas heading east forming into a large belt that will hit San Antonio in the next hour, so I have to log off and shut down my computer, however I shall be back again, hopefully tomorrow. But on top of that I love to watch a thunderstorm. I can't wait until the lightning brings the daylight into the dark night.

But anyways I'm rambling on. I love your creativity, I always learn a lot from your writing, keep up the good work Indie and take care. :)

Princess Haiku said...

This story really captured the subtle interactions between the women and placed them perfectly in that corridor. Well, done.

Indeterminacy said...

Princess Haiku: Thank you.

Doug said...

A therapist gets a fantasy license.

cooper said...

That was enticing, I'm glad you're back writing your stories inde I missed you.