She’s sleeping now. As good a time as any for this.
She has a migraine. I think its her brain wanting to step out and go for a walk. As whimsical as they come. I want the world and I want it now.
I can see it now. A sliver of the pink stuff poking out of her ear. “Here I come, ready or not. She’s not going to miss me much anyway.”
It crawls out of her ear. Slowly gathering momentum. I can only sit above her and watch as the thing that used to be her brain comes slithering crawling twisting out. It’s somehow changed into a long thin pink fleshy rope. Like a tapeworm. Yeah, that’s right.
It slithers out finally. All twenty feet of it. Looks around. Crawls to the open window. Turns back for one last look.
“If I’m not back in a day tell her to get a new one”
It crawls out and is soon out of sight.
I almost ask, “How’s she going to wake up if you’re not around?” But it’s long gone and all I have left is its last words.
Get a new one.
I don’t think it’s coming back.
I don’t think I can get her a new one.
Luckily, I don’t think she’ll wake up.