Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

A Little Anomaly

They named it. They named every feeling they supposed me to have. They just imagined what I might feel and then they named it. They told me my story as they thought it was. Straight in the face.

So who am I? What do I feel? According to them I don't know these things. I don't even fully realize what I feel. So they say. They say that I can't recognize when I feel jealous, angry, pleased - they say they know it better. They watch my gestures, my face, listen to the tone of my voice - and these things betray me. They say I pretend to be calm.

So what's going on? I'm sad, depressed for some unknown reason. I'm angry and jealous for another. And now - they say - you're puzzled. I'm this, I'm that - they see it all!

They claim to know better... they know better... some of them say I'm unable to love nor hate... and they are very worried... very worried with what they see. Others just laugh. You freak! - they say. Others don't understand how such a thing as me can live and be conscious. Still others... normals normals normals...

But there are a few who don't care. They just don't care. I decided to call them my friends. Sometimes we just hang upside down from the ceiling of the Cathedral, high high up, like big black bats. And we look curiously at the rest... We don't need to feel. We just Know. That is enough for us - to Know. And that makes us smile politely to all the rest. Perhaps we are the only ones able to be truly happy.

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