FictionRolandAndes

Columbus, Ohio USA
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FICTION

Conundrum
© 11-15-07
February 2008
by Roland Andes

See Wonderland, by Roland Andes

12:50am: Keep checking my watch. Must know precisely. Why is it so important? Giddy. Maybe just dizzy. Why? Have I eaten? Her. Admit it. Close your mind. Just keep walking, fella. Cold feet aren’t touching pavement though. Check myself, then jump in place. Ouch. That’s better. Maybe…sort of. No, it’s false relief, a temporary grounding. I keep looking back. Am conflicted. Not sure what’s happening within. Gut is all achurn. Vague sense of...some…something. Can’t pinpoint it. Don’t care (I think).

1:00am: Home. Mind is spinning…all over the globe. Almost wish I was someplace else. Avoid—divert—protect—shield. Try reading a book but keep getting distracted, drawn back. Want this story to end. This story. The one I’m holding on to.

1:22am: This paragraph is swell. Have read it 60 times. Know it by heart.

1:37am: Just want to finish reading this damned book. Ten pages left. Why am I still on page 224? Want to run back down the street, tell her “Thank you.” Hold her, be held. Red light! Do not soften. Stay solid. Focus. Finish this book. Finish something.

1:44am: Page 222. I’ve forgotten what occurred prior to page 224. I’m not going forward; I’m regressing. Put the book aside, try to relax, stare at the stucco, look for faces, shapes. Quit it. Must concentrate. Why do I feel so weird? Weirder?

1:56am: I know: I’ll go down Calumet and yell at fake-ass homeless guy, David. “Get up, Bud. Go home. Get out of the woods.” Ah, he’d have better reason to tell me the same.

2:11am: I’ll not be subjugated. Will not relinquish my independence.

2:11 and 30 seconds am: Who am I kidding? I’m talking out my rear. It’s fear, vulnerability. Scairdy cat, scairdy cat.

2:33am: Can’t think anymore. So tired. Lay the neverending book aside for a sec. Finish it tomorrow. Push my glasses above my brow. Shut my eyes. Dream escape.

7:30am: Arise. Groggy. Can’t see. Am vision-impaired. Slept on my glasses, crushed them. They’re now two-dimensional. Bend them back into shape. Wish I could do that with myself. Too many kinks. Oh, well.

7:32am: Look pretty stupid and geometric in the mirror. Hairdo by Picasso. Splash water upon. Open my eyes. That’s a start. She enters my mind.

7:34am: Am awake. Awakened.

7:35am: I care.

Roland Andes © 11/15/07
Roland Andes (1953-2009) was a Columbus documentary photographer and writer

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