Mayan New Year

I’ve been sitting here looking at the damned shard in the sand in front of me.  Time has passed, but now it’s time.  I like the paradoxical sound of that.

I look out at the water, which is still today, still like ocean water never is.  Yup, today is the day.

I close my eyes and shout as loudly as I can.  “BRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCE!!”

When I open my eyes, Bruce is standing on the other side of the shard from me, looking at me calmly.  He’s wearing blue jeans and a plaid flannel shirt.  He waits for me to speak first.

“How long has it been?”

“More than two months.”  He was clearly prepared for that to be the first question.

“So it’s almost Christmas, right?”

He nods.

“It’s Mayan doomsday, isn’t it?”

“Hmph.”  He glances at the still water.  “I guess we’ll know by tomorrow.”  He looks at me again, serious and expectant.

“Need to have a meeting.  You, me, and the Martha-I.  And I need a spokesperson.”  I pause and think a moment.  “Something like a lawyer.”

“This will be a trial?”

“No, but I need a voice.  I’ve got something to say.”

“You have your own voice.  It’s often been too loud.”

“I need another voice, for that and other reasons.  Serious meeting.”  I look down at the shard again.  “That thing needs to be there too.”

Bruce nods.  “I’ll get the meeting together, but you need to bring that.”

I close my eyes again and nod.  Softly: “Of course I do.”

When I open my eyes, Bruce is gone and the shard is in my hand.  A tiny bit of blood leaks from one side of my palm, from grasping that sharp point.

It’s snowing somewhere.


Replies are NOT necessarily posted, but I'll see them.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s