Schizoid by Matthew Tait

Author:Matthew Tait [Tait, Matthew]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dark Crib Publishing
Published: 2018-12-28T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

During drunken binges (what Lila had once referred to as episodic cyclones), Micha could lose up to three days of life. Not all that uncommon for garden-variety drunks, of course – a period of missing time where both the brain and physical-self seemed to go on an extended hiatus from everything. One minute, you were roaring along good-naturedly on a kick-ass buzz; next, you wake up on a stranger’s floor in a pool of drool. Or piss. Or even vomit-covered Rice Krispies. Once attaining an upright position again, consulting a calendar was literally a sobering experience. What happened to Monday and Tuesday? More importantly, what god-awful things took place during these days of absentia from reality?

Returning from Hadley Grove was similar in many ways … except awakening back in his own bed, Micha wasn’t covered in any drool.

And no days had passed in the real world at all.

This was proving to be the most staggering part of the experience – something Micha had a hard time properly swallowing. Because weeks had gone by in the world of story and make-believe.

It’s almost like a form of time-travel. Or being sucked into the fringes of a black hole where time is severely dilated.

Same clothes on the body; same haunted look in the eyes. The same juvenile posters adorned his bedroom walls – while the same shitty car sat parked in his driveway. It was Monday, June 14th, and it was like his time staying with Sara and her daughter in Hadley Grove had never taken place at all.

Only one thing was different.

The manuscript of The Mercury Man had grown again.

***

Micha showered and then ate. Afterward, he watched a few episodes of South Park from Lila’s gift collection. This act, like all of the other boring ones, served as a weak attempt to acclimatize his body and mind back to the monotone reality of everyday living. While his food tasted uninspired, everything else was equally drab. Just how had his existence here in Concord ever seemed meaningful in any capacity whatsoever? Sara’s bar, while dispensing a poison that (while not always agreeing with him) was at least filled with the clamor and smells of life … of raucous footsteps navigating stairs; of happy humans breaking bread, laughing, and raising jugs, all while an artist known as Prince (never formally known in the fecund realm of 1985), sung about the desire to see his lover laughing inside a skein of purple-colored rain.

I want to be around people again? That doesn’t sound right at all. Does this mean I’m cured of schizoid personality disorder?

Obviously not. Because the thought of being out there (that was, mingling in the world outside his window in the twenty-first century) filled Micha with a species of stoic dread somehow more acute than in the far-flung days of being undiagnosed. People in this world had never been overly kind, often lambasting him for the slightest infraction deviating from what they considered the norm. No children at your age? There was something wrong with you.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.