I Am Nothing, who believes it is something
The Care-Nurse “I can only advise.” Ms. Elda looked down toward the white floor. “You, of all people, know this.” The Care-Nurse, with her hair tied in a braided rope, elegantly wrapped around the top of her head, pretended to write notes, while she watched George through the monitors. “The decisions that will be made will benefit George.” The Care-Nurse…
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Treatment George was alone with his bad feelings. He wanted to eat, but his stomach felt squeezed. His head was foggy and lazy. He wanted to hear his mother’s sympathies, but she was gone. His eyes opened, just a little, and he surveyed the room. His ears remembered the soundless nature of the Center. Scattered lights, muted by stone. Light…
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Ms. Elda “George” A quiet voice said, “Hey George.” George feels a warm hand upon his forehead, and opens his right eye, slightly. Seeing through the squint, his mother’s hair tickles his cheek and annoys his eyelashes. He smells her. Still returning to himself, he searches his memories: friend, flowers, a yellow sleeve. I have to pee. Repressing the nagging…
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Phreddie, submerged within the Iktoo vision, had gracefully moved through the night. He knew nothing and everything. He moved with an individualistic unity that spiders know. With the light, Phreddie paused — let go. He was only himself, and he was alone. They looked through the lens onto the world. The lenses appeared as antenna or as the dot of…
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Guardians. George had observed their patterns. Guardians, like spiders, make webs. “Not webs, they don’t make webs,” George reminded himself. “They are the web.” Guardians are web-like. They are the strands of silk that catch. George continued to remind himself of this detail. As he walked the path to the edge of the circle, he tried to counter the Induction…
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George awoke that day without a thought. Without thoughts to confuse him, he did what people of great purpose do — he left home. As George closed the door to his bedroom, a singing voice refrained, “Tell us what you see — Far away forgotten Lands where empires have turned back to sand.” Wincing at the picture of his Induction…
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Morning sun spread across the lens revealing a renewed pattern of crossed silk strands. They gazed through the lens, sight obtained, and recorded. The lens looked toward a four-lane highway, vehicles moving east and west. Peering through the silky strands, vehicles were pointed east, toward the lens. As they sped to and passed, the sun lowered itself and created the…
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