Singular Entities

by Cynical


On a Sunny Day

She’s behind me now; she has been for a while. She sounds so carefree- so… blithe and cheerful. That’s who she is though. She’s me on a happier day- a sunny day.

She looks just like me too… I guess… That’s who she is. She’s me- part of me- another part of me- a happier part of me.

My mind- our mind- is vast… it’s the expanse of the sky and the height of the world; infinite wonder in which we live. Myself and I. We live as owners of our own world.

An unearthly tune starts up behind me; she’s playing some sort of instrument now… a shell of sorts. It sounds eerie- alien. I shiver to myself and look out into the world again.

We’re moving across it; I don’t think I mentioned that. Me, myself, and I, we’re moving across a world of sky on our own ship- our own wings; an island with a windmill… turning slowly behind us in the windless sky.

She pauses in her tune and I hear hoofsteps in the grass – moving towards me.

“Yo, are we there yet?”

The newcomer’s voice is sharp, slightly scratchy, and fast. It suits her…

“There’s nothing stopping you from going there yourself…” I reply, not facing her as she starts to play another note on her shell.

My voice is a burr; low and slow. She hears it though… I would bet that she does too.

“Yeah… but there’s only so much you can do on this place… and it’s no fun without you or her with me.”

“Then be patient,” I reply calmly.

“You and me know that that’s her business… not mine.”

“You and I,” I correct, still not looking around – I know it annoys her. “Then be fast – that’s you, right? Go and amuse yourself.”

She huffs behind me as another note echoes from the shell. “Fine… be like that,” she mutters under her breath – it doesn’t matter… I can hear her anyway – before turning and stalking off.

Wings unfurl somewhere in the background and she takes off, flying into the sky of our mind.

The music hitches as she pauses. “You shouldn’t antagonise her,” she states.

Of the three of us, her voice is the closest to normal that we have. She sounds almost normal… it’s a wonder why she’s the least normal of us.

“I thought I was being fair,” I reply, a smile forming on my own face at my own hollow humour.

“She’s just being who she is,” she says matter-of-factly, “It’s no wonder that she leaks through the most.”

“And yet you don’t,” I say sadly.

The pregnant pause says it all.

A minute later, she starts playing the shell again, letting the music sail into the sky.

She’s the smart one of us three. She’s the one who likes the arts – the one who gets lost in a novel, the one who can draft a piece of haunting music, the one who can sculpt anything she wishes.

And she’s right… it’s no wonder that she bleeds into us so little when she is here. It’s a pity… considering.

There’s me too… the one who steers; who looks for adventure and for something new to see. Be it creature, place, or face.

Speed, Art, and Wonder. The three of us that make up her.

Speed is the character of us… she is who we seem to be most often. The pony with the wind racing through our mane and the world in a blur below us.

I am the explorer; courage if you like. The one who will never give up; never back down; never stop looking. I suppose I am Loyalty… some part of it anyway.

And she – Art – is none of us. Hers is the mind that is seen once in a blue moon when a particular cover is opened or when a cloud is shaped in the midnight.

Speed doesn’t really like Art… ‘what’s the point of something static that is only there to look at.’

She’s strangely sweet on her though, I’ve never really understood why… Art is the smarter of us three too.

It’s her choice, I think… She’s probably smart enough to push her way into us… to make herself the predominant trait if you will.

She doesn’t though – thank Dash – instead, she just sits in our mind and works…

I think I like that about her…

I wish Speed would slow down and let her shine…