A Second Chance at Saying No...

Day 19, 971 of my life...

Today a man appeared inside my head.

I could tell you he looked like Gizmo from the cartoon, The Flintstones, but that would be wishful thinking, and a lie.

He was taller… much taller, and not in the least green.

Quite a stern expression, and when my grey cells got closer to him, he smelled of decayed wood. That’s not a bad thing, really, as it was decayed maple wood—a rancid kind of sap scent mixed with mould.

He said his name was Frank.

He told me he was a former teacher.

He also told me he was dead.

I kind of figured as much due to the decay. Most people inside my head, who are alive, smell fresh.

I casually asked, “What grade?” And he said, “Grades 5 and 6.”

Hm… Nice grades. Old enough to talk with but young enough to dream big.

I looked at him with that expression you throw out when you’re waiting… wondering, what the hey?

“Oh, I’m here to give you a second go-‘round for all your yearnings.”

“Yearnings? Like, you mean, cravings? Like muffins and cake?”

“No.” His flashed expression, that of a learned man wondering why in the hell he was stuck helping a moron. He added, “All the things you keep wanting to relive. All those desires to return to places, to live again with people. I’m here to take you back. I’ve been told you’re a good candidate for assistance, so here I am. Get ready. Let’s go.”

I sat there and sipped my coffee as he sat there inside my mind waiting for me to finish sipping my coffee. I really had nothing to say. The thought, the idea, that I could abandon Now for Then… and with my current intelligence, experience, return and re-do, re-see, re-live… and re-love?

After suffering long enough in my vacuous mind, I said, “No. It’s okay. Thanks for the second chance, all the same, but I think I’ll pass.”

“Then why all this constant bluster? Why the fantasizing, the bemoaning, the dreaming?”

“I don’t know. I’m Irish and I’m Pisces. I think it’s what we do.”

The man crossed his legs and lit a cigarette.

My frontal lobe smelled of burning tobacco.

I could tell he wasn’t going anywhere.

He was settling in for a long wait. Just in case I changed my mind.