Welcome to
the new Stream of Consciousness fiction blog.
A serial adventure in
fiction by Brad Sondahl
Click on the day of the week for the current
selection,
or an earlier day if you missed an installment for the week.
Previous
weeks are listed at the bottom of the page
I'm
not sure how I got here, but it seems like I can't get out of this
current reality! I am typing this in on the computer. My cat is
meowing for tuna, but it's had plenty so I ignore it. Family
members murmur words in the background. One of them comes over to
look over my shoulder. "Why are you writing that?" says Alice.
"It's what's happening," I say. "I can't seem to think of
anything else to write about." "Well, it's not very interesting." she says.
"I can't help that," I say. "Maybe something else will happen
that is more interesting, possibly even exciting." "If it does, you can tell me about it in the morning," she says, and there she goes, off to bed.
The cat wants in, so I let it in. With 3 cats, and cool weather,
I am becoming a cat's doorperson, or whatever they're called now besides
doorman.
Things do not look good. Alice
is in bed, and I'm still here typing. A cat is at the feed bowl.
I'm waiting for a shot to ring out, or a dark and stormy night.
I check the forecast. A warming trend for tomorrow, but I'm
stuck here in the cool present, a cat meowing her choice for something
better than dry cat food, myself hoping she doesn't jump in my lap with
her slight obesity and overlong claws, which I would trim if Alice
hadn't borrowed the nail clippers for something. The cat is back
and I heft it into my lap, accepting its purrs and sticky paws, and its
head nudges requiring a bit of petting.
My back is feeling a bit tired, a little twingy. The cat doesn't
care, but I do. I'm thinking I will leave the computer, shut it
down, and get ready for bed, then read until I can get the present out
of my mind, and slip into the future, or the dreamworld, which ever
happens first. But its hard getting to the future, so I sit at the computer and watch itself shut down.
Now I'm in bed, trying to shut down my brain. I find the thing
that makes me fall asleep is to be thinking two thoughts at once.
I read, paying attention to the book I'm reading. Finally I
can't pay attention to it anymore....
I'm
dreaming! Hey, wow, how am I typing this while I'm asleep?
Oh, I'm sitting at a computer keyboard while I dream. I'm
dreaming I'm a homeless bum hanging out on a college campus. I
call a couple friends on my cell phone, and tell them there's going to
be a homecoming parade, and that they should meet me at the parade.
I go into a big Roman style building, strongly decorated with
red, white, and blue. There are a couple Sikh guards protecting
the place, but they look middle aged and pudgy, and so do I, so they
let me pass. I ask how to get to the parade, and they tell me
they think it's on the 8th floor. I wonder at this, but decide
the back of the building is built into the hillside, so perhaps if I go
up I'll come out at the level of the parade. It does seem odd
that the only way up is a ladder... When I get to the second
floor, it's like a warehouse full of light bulbs and stuff, with no
apparent way to get up further. This dream is getting depressing.
Woo. Morning is always better than dreams like that. Or is
it? Here I am, typing on the computer again. I think I'll
go away.
There's a gap in my consciousness. I only exist when I'm typing
at the keyboard, which isn't much of an existence at all... I
type, therefore I am. Typing. Without the past, I'm not sure what is news... What do you know? I don't know much.
Well folks, ever since Phil had the run in with poddy aliens he's
been off his game a bit. We're going to give him about 10 days of
rest cure, at which time he'll probably make it successfully to the
future.
Use this chart to find the next of the cartoons (first 47 entries) or the stories (starting with 1 A River Too Far 5 rows below week 8)
