WTFudge: My Minds Eye
The Coolest Game to Play With Your Friends
My Minds Eye could be about anything. Literally. The point of reading the stories was to discover who was telling the story. It was way to develop a talent for humanizing the most common objects around us. It’s 100% free to read and comment on, so let your perspectives be heard. If you haven’t subscribed to Life of Fiction yet, the button’s below. Join our community. You won’t regret it.
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A question that sometimes drives me hazy: am I or are the others crazy?
Albert Einstein
Years ago, as in over a decade, I wrote a book of short stories. It was called, "My Minds Eye."
It was a compilation of short stories that I would blurt out late at night after writing and drawing comic books for 16+ hours a day. A way to vent, to get my crazy ideas out. Over the years, the book faded into the background. That is, until my wife decided to encourage the children to expand their own writing skills.
My Minds Eye could be about anything. Literally. The point of reading the stories was to discover who was telling the story. It was way to develop a talent for humanizing the most common objects around us. For years we had friends come over for evening reads and laughs as they tried to figure out the way our brains worked.
I am delighted to say, my children have bested me.
Tonight for the first time, they read me their own My Minds Eye stories and I was stumped! IT WAS AWESOME. They were brilliant. So much so, I asked if I could start posting them here on Life of Fiction.
They said "yes."
So from time to time, I'll be sharing a short story with you, for your entertainment and enjoyment. It’s not my normal fiction, and we’ll have fun interacting…so it’s perfect for WTFudge.
Read the story below and try to guess who is telling it.
Ready?
Well…this sucks.
I replay the last half hour in my mind, regret settling over me like years of dust mites on a neglected mantle. Regret is a lonely, discontented, brittle emotion. An apt summary of us, at the moment.
I had winced as you ground your teeth together in evident distress. Tearful overwhelm was written over every inch of your posture, and I deflated slightly because I couldn’t appropriately comfort you.
Your every whim has me turning over and inside out to please you. You’ve always known how to wrap me around your little finger.
…But I failed you. You shared intimate things with me, took me places within yourself that no one else has ever been, just to discover that all I am still isn’t enough to fill the chasm of emotional need that eats away at you. I’m just your pawn, your play thing, and I’m happy to be even that much for you.
In an explosive fit of despair you had cast me aside and now here we are. I sit in the corner of the room watching you weep, aching to console you. Your tears cut me to my very core.
Forgive me, my darling. I love you.
WHO AM I?
WAIT! What's the ANSWER?!?
Okay, here's how this works. Locked in my author vault below is both the answer and the author. All you have to do is make your guesses in the comments. That is where I’ll reveal the answer…
Asia,....would it happen to be a balloon?
ANSWER: A pacifier.
....now read it over again. =)