The Definition of Connection

Claire is seated by the brook. She’s listening to the bubbles tinkling against the rocks in her left ear, and to the lyrics of random music in her right.

(There’s this lingering feeling, like I’m missing something. I feel like I’m missing something)

With heavy eyes, she’s trying to make sense of the days past; trying to find more revelations. Blank sheets lay strewn against the moss, moistened topsoil and fire ants. Rebelling against the sheets, the pen taps against her hand, playing along to the music.All she’s managed thus far is to make a To-Do list.

1. Buy a ticket to see a wonderful band.

2. Continue observing.

(I’m feeling the pull, dragging me off again. And I’m feeling so small against the big sky tonight.)

Her gaze hangs on the ducks with their ducklings. And she wonders if that’s all there is to life; if it could be that simple. To grow, learn, reproduce and teach.

“There has to be more.”

(Sometimes stillness is the only way to be)

There’s rustling behind her, breaking leaves and strewn twigs. Claire turns. It’s bouncing around her, a flurry of brown. She can’t focus on it until it jumps directly beside her: a small ferret-like rodent, the eyes focused on hers.

“What the hell are you?” 

It tilts its head to the side and drops a dead mouse at her thigh: the eyes open and free of rot.

(If you can love me, you’ll be the very best thing I’ve found)

The ferret nods at her, then bounces away.

Words and actions escaping her, she’s trapped in time, glancing from where this creature use to be to the dead mouse and back again.

(She’s just passing by; she got no love for solid ground. She’s a butterfly. And she’s got blue skies overhead)

A lifetime later, with certainty and confusion fluttering around her like pollen, the creature bounces back. He stops in front the mouse, pulling his eyes up to her. He cocks his head, first to the right, then to the left, picks the mouse up with his teeth and bounces away, stopping once to turn.

(So I made myself some promises. I told myself I wouldn’t care. I took a bath, I took a pill, I went to sleep. I felt my promises disappear into the air.)

She feels herself descending into the cool earth below, eyes weighing her down. She gives a quick thought to the fire ants, and dismisses it. She grabs her To-Do list and scribbles:

3. Do not fall asleep in the park.