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A Spontaneous Arrival Of Exalted Fancy
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TITLE (EDIT)
A Spontaneous Arrival Of Exalted Fancy
DESCRIPTION
-
[908 words]
AUTHOR
Bob M Ra
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
-
[June 2003]
AUTHOR'S E-MAIL ADDRESS
bob@madera.zzn.com
AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (7)
666 (Poetry) - [62 words]
A Collection Of Essays Concerning Mexico (Essays) Several Essays composed for a Latin Studies Class at UIC. [5,770 words]
Plan A (Poetry) - [63 words]
Strange Associations (Poetry) - [46 words]
The Extraordinary Stillness (Short Stories) - [547 words]
The Hummingbird And The Chipmunk (Short Stories) - [738 words]
The Sound And The Silence (Poetry) - [73 words]
A Spontaneous Arrival Of Exalted Fancy
Bob M Ra

Shortly after I came to be, I found myself on a bicycle approaching a stopped vehicle. I had no idea what to do, having just entered sentience, so I did nothing. I was not surprised when I passed through the stopped vehicle in front of me. In fact, this event was insignificant when compared with the sudden onset of my existence. Even that, however, was not as significant as the bicyclist. He was the most significant of all. During my time, the bicyclist was the only one who knew that I existed.

Why else would he have risked his life riding through a crowded intersection? It wasn’t merely a coincidence that we were both heading for the same busy intersection nearly side by side, and he definitely wasn’t following his bicyclist instincts when he ignored the red light and failed to stop.

Now, had I not just been delivered from nothingness into a state of perpetual motion, then stopping certainly would have occurred to me. Moreover, had I the potential to smash into the side of a moving vehicle the way that he did, then I would have stopped long before we plunged into the intersection. Finally, had I not been the lure to this event of mutual neglect, and he the fish, then he may as well not have almost killed himself, and I may as well not have existed.

Yet, I did exist; and he knew that I did. The following conversation, which happened after the disaster, stands as evidence.
 
The pedestrian said to him, “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know”, was the bicyclist’s response.

“Can I help?” the pedestrian inquired.

“I don’t know”, he repeated. “Did you see it?”

“See what?” the pedestrian questioned.

“That thing”, the bicyclist said. “That”, he started but stopped. “That”, he started but stopped again. “That fucken thing!” he finally blurted out. “That thing with me in the intersection. Tell me you saw it. Fuck, I almost died because of that thing!”

“Oh that” said the pedestrian, “Of course. How could I not have? I was standing right here. I saw you crash.”

The bicyclist then took a deep breath and said, “Good. Listen, you’re not gonna believe this.”

The pedestrian leaned closer to him in response.

The bicyclist went on, “Well, I was passin through the intersection, when that thing, it just… it just appeared. I mean, like right in front of me. One moment nothin was there, and then that thing just appeared.”

The pedestrian replied, “Well, it didn’t just appear, you just didn’t see it in time.”

“What? Hold on”, the bicyclist said, “You still haven’t heard the craziest part. We were about to collide when”, he paused for a moment.
 
The pedestrian filled in the pause with, “You crashed and almost killed yourself.”

“No”, the bicyclist replied, “We didn’t. We actually passed right through each other.”

“What? No you didn’t”, the pedestrian replied,”You crashed right into it.”

“How would you know?” the bicyclist inquired.

“Because I saw it happen”, the pedestrian said.

“What? How is that possible? How could you have seen anything?” the bicyclist asked.

“What do you mean? I was standing right here, I saw what happened. You rode into the intersection and crashed into the side of a truck, which didn’t stop, but kept on going. And I’m not the only one who saw it. Just ask any one of those people waiting for the bus. A few of them started laughing, one guy even took a…”

“Just hold on”, interrupted the bicyclist, “I’m not talkin about the bus. I’m talkin about that thing.”

“What thing? What the hell are you talking about?” asked the pedestrian.

“That thing!” shouted the bicyclist, “Fuck, I guess you didn’t see it then. Man, how could you not have seen it? It was…It was like…It was like blurred out of reality or something. But it was all colorful, kind of psychedelic, and it was flyin down the street on a bike. I know it sounds crazy, but a few blocks down, I passed right through it. That’s why I chased the damn thing in the first place. I was so amazed by what happened I just couldn’t stop myself. I mean, the power to pass through solid matter is pretty fucken awesome. I just wanted to catch up and talk to it. So I turned around to go after the damn thing, and by the time I was right behind it we were heading into that fuckin intersection. Man, and I thought, I just thought that maybe it would somehow lead me through the traffic unscathed.”

“Wow! You’ve got quite an imagination!” said the pedestrian.

“What? No. I didn’t imagine this thing. It was there, it had to be”, said the bicyclist.

“I wouldn’t bet on it”, said the pedestrian, “People imagine things all the time.”

Some do it naturally, some let others do it for them; some imagine wonderful things, others rather ordinary. Some people use imagination frivolously. Some do it unconsciously. They beget and beget with their minds all the time unleashing the potential to be, the origin of beings such as me.

Unfortunately, my maker by nature invented and conceived me, but remained blind to that fact due to what he believed to be. The pedestrian, however, was a bit more clever, after all, I really was an imaginary being. If the bicyclist had held such a belief, then he could have imagined me do anything.

      
      
      

 

READER'S REVIEWS (2)
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"The idea of a being coming into existence suddenly in the manner you described, is interesting but I didn't get a sense of a real story arc. Often there are too many words or sentences to describe a thought which could be remidied by more ruthless editing. The characters of the pedestrian and cyclist act in strange ways, changing emotions abruptly, and are not very distinguishable from each other. The dialogue attempts to be realistic which is fine but some of the real 'you knows' etc... could be edited out. Dialogue in fiction is best done, from my experience, if it feels real but isn't actually real. If you're interest is in writing a short, short story then it is best to be precise, writing description and action in tight powerful language. That is not to say that you can't be reflective or descriptive, but each word is precious. Thanks for letting me read it!" -- Offpill.
"i agree with offpill, the premise was cool, but the language is not tight enough and the ending was bogus. the nub of a possible story exists, but better dialogue and ending are required." -- sunny, DC, DC, USA.

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COPYRIGHT NOTICE
© 2003 Bob M Ra
STORYMANIA PUBLICATION DATE
May 2003
NUMBER OF TIMES TITLE VIEWED
1223
 

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