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Crocodile Tears

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Rhett Downing

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“When we see beauty, we’re seeing a part of ourselves, a reflection in time. Ask me the time, Zara.” “What time is it?” “It’s perhaps a time.” “Perhaps a time, what kind of a time is perhaps a time?” Zara asks, somewhat curiously amused. “The ‘that’ part, that’s the part of the kind of ‘perhaps a time’ we’re talking about.” “What’s the ‘that’ part?” “It’s the part found in anytime.” “Anytime?” A confused look knits on Zara’s brow. “Yes, ‘perhaps a time’ is ‘anytime’, but you need a place, ‘anyplace’ to find anytime.” “Anyplace to find anytime? Do you have any idea how mad you sound?” “Oh, it’s such a colorful thing this void of mine. It’s all sparkly, fluffy and light, twinned with the inevitability of life. Besides, I only sound mad when I’m ‘anywhere’, dear.” “Where the hell is anywhere?” Zara asks, this time very confused. “Sometimes it’s up, sometimes it’s down. Anywhere oh anywhere a place we sow confusion all around.”

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“...and then the mysterious Elb appear to rearrange the very fabric of reality itself. They do not travel through the vast expanse, instead space becomes a cocoon as they weave the strings of the universe into a silken-case, only to break it open, emerging at their destination. A form of travel so inexplicable that the Eyt have not developed the conceptual awareness to even measure the basic mechanics of such phenomena.”

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“Later, this understanding evolved into a fear of my own susceptibility to madness, but as a child I simply understood that a person could not live with an open channel to the sublime inside them; it was impossible to hold on to the collective story of human life with that live cord writhing through you, showering sparks like a downed wire in a hurricane. Human life was defined by composure and linearity, school bus routes and homework and gender and bedtimes and taxes. Though I could meet its requirements most of the time, I knew my adherence to the logic of reality was tenuous, that a more feral sensibility reigned beneath it.”

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