Kaleidoscope by Anonymous

                                    Kaleidoscope

He closed his eyes as he rowed – on a machine in the gym.  Images flowed.  They were a comfort:  much better than the realities around him in LA Fitness.

“I want you to wash the dishes and then you need to put them away and after that, don’t forget you’re going to stop at the post office before you go to the gym… and while you’re there, I need a bottle of milk which you can buy at….”  The words continued.  He was flying over them.  At some point he’d ask they all be written down on a piece of paper.  He knew that wouldn’t go over very big, but it beat getting chewed out for forgetting something.  “You don’t listen!”  Those were the pillars in his earthbound world.  Those words: “You don’t listen.”  Actually he did, but as they flew past he wasn't able to record them properly.  The recording device in his head had overflowed.  Buffer issue.

Then again, maybe a simple lack of interest in gray words flying past like dead leaves in the wind on a November morning.

Now he was safe.  The list was on his car’s dashboard (on a three by five notecard).  He was floating in his reverie at the gym.  With closed eyes he could be anywhere.  In fact he was now flying about in time as if he were logged into Second Life, freed from gravity.  Freed from the fact that if one falls off a cliff in Real Life one dies, but in SL one doesn't.

“Hello”.  Those words were from outside his skull.    He opened his eyes.  It was a woman.  “How much longer will you be on the rowing machine?”  She didn’t seem upset; just curious.  He looked down at the display.  It read 47:28.  “About 13 more minutes”, he replied.  He knew he wasn't being exact, but he was tired of exactitude.
 
She smiled at him.

“Now what the fuck is that all about,” he wondered.  He closed his eyes again.  She broke into his attempt to go back to dreaming and seeing visions and feeling very little except the breath through his opened mouth.  “How long do you work out?”, she asked.  He thought, “What difference is it to you?” but he was polite.  “It depends,” he replied.  He thought of adding, “… usually a couple of hours”, but it seemed kinda pointless to tell her.  She had her world; he had his.

He suddenly remembered that he had to be sure to stop and get that bottle of milk.  Bottle?  It struck him that they hadn't bottled milk in decades; it came in cardboard boxes now.  He opened his eyes again.  The woman was still there.

“You take this really seriously, don’t you?”, she said.  “I take most things pretty seriously,” he replied.

“You don’t remember me, do you… ,“she then said.

He looked at her breasts (nice), and then at her hips and crotch (better).  “Uh, I’m sorry, I don’t,” he said.  He really didn’t know what to add.

Her smile disappeared.  “Well, when you do remember, let me know.”  She paused.  “My name is Courtney.”  She walked away.

It was after he’d bought the milk and was driving home that he remembered where he knew her from.  “Ah, Courtney,” he thought.   He felt like kicking himself.  He wondered if she’d ever return and resume where they had left off almost three years ago.  Back then she had made him an offer ‘he couldn’t refuse’ -- and he had refused it.
He hadn't meant for her to disappear forever back then.  He had been willing to do as she’d demanded; it was just not the right time.  Since he never saw her again -- back then – logically enough, she never repeated her offer.

He knew she wouldn’t approach him again at the gym now either.  It didn’t really matter.  He was already owned, lock-stock-and-barrel.

He looked at the card on the dashboard of his car.  Damn!  He’d almost forgotten!  “Check my mail at the post office!  Don’t forget!”  Yes, that’s what it said.

Forgetting was something he did a lot.  He wished he was back on the rowing machine, with his eyes closed.  Life was simpler when you just had one job in front of you.

He wondered what Courtney was doing right now.  It was best he not know.  She was probably writing down a list of ‘things to do’ for her current ‘love’, cursing under her breath because he didn’t listen and was always forgetting what she told him to do.  Some things are constant.