A long tear—toward which he turned slightly—had appeared in the atmosphere on the left side of his head. From the lazuline Light of its interior, a dragonfly appeared and perched on the top ridge of Chester’s ear, and gazed in, exploring from the perimeter. The tear became smaller, projecting only a sliver of the glowing, blue light until it closed completely. The littlest feet that Chester may or may not have imagined were holding on, and Hebra made no movements as Chester laughed out loud about, “Where do drunk people live?” The question had been presented to him by the child, Peenya, and he laughed heartily, “Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha,” at her sober notion of special places for people like him.
“I’m thorry; I can’t help you with that,” Chester had told Peenya. As a boy he believed that the time would come when those evolving would speak in the language of speech impediments, but at age forty-eight and still quite alone, Chester acknowledged that he may have been wrong. Furthermore, not one speech pathologist among the five in three cities who’d examined him, could find the source of his S-problem. His mother had advised him not to claim it, believing that by denying its existence, he’d heal. But…Chester claimed it unyieldingly because if it were his, he could give it away.
Hebra, still perched, had looked peered deep into Chester’s ear and was aware that he couldn’t get inside. He knocked. Chester asked, “Who?!” then remembered and turned his head to get a look at the sightseer that was becoming an irritant, but couldn’t, lacking a point-of-view. Strange things have happened to Chester, he’ll tell you, on his journey committed to reaching the High Land. “They thay you have to go up there to thee down here,” he’ll tell you, striving to reach a place where good things can happen for him.
Once more, Hebra tried to commune with Chester; he hummed into the man’s vacant ear and lingered for a moment, then flew out in front of him. Chester swatted at the twinkling beauty, his brilliant hues of purple and blue. Then he used both hands, not to hurt him, but to end the hasten the departure of the sightseeing irritant. As this was happening, Hebra’s companion, the sliver of blue Light appeared again; he winged in and flew back to the High Place.
Submitted by: Naimah on 09/03/2016
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