Thursday, April 22, 2010

The Noema: Conversation #1 ("Beyond")

The Noema
[a story in endless acts of]
the little boy, the man in the top hat and the eyeball.

by jake kilroy.

"I don't get it. Where are you going?" asked the eyeball.

"Beyond," replied the little boy.

"Beyond what?" said the eyeball.

"Exactly," added the man in the top hat, as he understood perfectly.

The three of them stood close together, but in three variations of depth. The eyeball stood on the dry sand, the man in the top hat stood on the wet sand and the little boy stood in the shallow water.

There was a drab green ceiling seemingly miles above them, looming. The eyeball thought they should install a chandelier or something. The man in the top hat thought they should've built a skyline somewhere. And the little boy thought everything was fine just the way it was.

On several/some/many occasions, the eyeball and the man in the top hat agreed and swapped opinions. They bartered a few like medieval road peddlers. But the little boy always saw things in brighter colors and cooler air, and his demeanor often brought sunshine with it, which is traditionally unagreeable.

"You know, you don't have to be so empty," announced the eyeball, turning towards the man in the top hat.

"Me?" the man in the top hat said sharply, surprised and indignant. "Have you seen yourself?"

"Wow," cracked the eyeball, rolling himself. "The irony in that is thicker than your skull."

The little boy watched the other two quietly.

"When I go, there will be no friendship," the little boy said finally.

"Ok, ok, ok," started the eyeball, "we'll be better. But where are you going?"

"I told you," said the little boy.

"Truly, though, we understand that you mean to sail beyond, but...what is beyond?" cooed the man in the top hat.

"There is only the beyond once you have reached beyond," said the little boy, his eyes dancing a gleam, kicking it around like a soccer ball.

"Listen, there's nothing new beyond," reasoned the eyeball. "There's only this. There is only these drab colors, this black blue, this brown green, this tan yellow. The land is rotting. Don't you see? This entire world is in flames without the magnificence of fire. If you sail, you will only reach darker colors. This eternity is closing in without movement. I don't see why you can't spend your last days with us."

"Because I don't believe in last days and I will be seeing you soon," said the little boy.

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