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|My Shadow Has a Problem (standard:humor, 751 words)|
|Author: bodhisattva||Added: Feb 04 2002||Views/Reads: 2308/1||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|Does the shadow know all?|
My shadow has a problem. I noticed it the time I ate lunch at this French sidewalk café. I was watching the people on the street, all in a hurry, all too caught up in their own thoughts to realize what was happening around them. I was thinking these thoughts, enjoying my coffee, when I saw a blur out of the corner of my eye. When I looked closer, I saw a young woman walking down the street, but what had caught my eye was the fact that her shadow seemed to have tripped and was now lying on the ground. I shook it off, thinking it must be the sugar –- or lack thereof, in my diet, until I noticed another shadow, lying prone on the ground. My legs were planted firmly under the table, but the shadow cast from my left leg was sticking out tripping other people’s shadows. I watched as my shadow’s leg tripped three more unknowing pedestrians, sending all three of there shadow’s tumbling to the ground. Immediately I stood up and ran from the restaurant, scared out of my mind, wondering what demon from hell may have taken control of my shadow. As I ran, I looked behind me and my shadow wasn’t following me step for step, as would be expected. It had climbed on my back and had wrapped itself around me. Without another thought, I dove into the nearest patch of grass available to me and rolled back and forth, trying to dislodge my shadow. In the midst of my rolling back and forth, I heard a deep, soothing voice, reaching to me, telling me to calm down. I looked up, and my shadow was standing over me, laughing. “You can’t hurt me, I’m your shadow.” “What the hell is the matter with you?” “Absolutely nothing is the matter with me, I am you, or if you prefer, I am the manifestations of your inner-dialogue.” “That’s not possible; you’ve read too many Steven King books. Wait a minute, why am I talking to you, you’re my shadow, dammit, if anyone sees this, they’re going to lock me up in the nuthouse.” “All shadows can talk, but very few ever do, but you have so much repressed emotion inside of you, I thought I’d help you out.” “How, by tripping other shadows?” “I’ve done much worse than that; you just haven’t been paying attention. Remember that obscenity that was scrawled on the wall of the museum?” “Yeah, the picture of the...you can’t tell me that you’re responsible for that?” “That was no picture, that was another shadow, the shadow of the woman that gave you the fake phone number. I heard what you said in your head about her, and I gave you a hand, you just didn’t realize it, you ungrateful bastard.” “How long have you been doing this?” “The last few years, and let me tell you something, you are one messed up little wacko.” “I’ll have you know...wait just a bloody second...why am I arguing with you, you’re my shadow, you do your job, and I’ll do mine.” “I’ve been your faithful shadow for your entire life; I even let you win when we race in the mornings.” “You mean my morning jog?” “I let you win every morning; I was trying to build your self-esteem.” “What do you mean you let me win? You’re my shadow, you are only there during the day when the sun is out! You are always behind me!” “That’s what we like to let you think, but what do you think we do when it’s cloudy, or at night? Do you think we just wait around for the sun?” “I can’t believe my shadow is holding an argument with me.” “Don’t forget I’m winning the argument also.” The argument went on for quite some time, in the end my shadow convinced me that what he was doing was just and right. I continued to repress my emotions, having some comfort in the fact that at least my shadow could experience some catharsis, and I could benefit vicariously in a twilight zone-like manner. On sunny days, I was witness to my shadow’s actions, whether he was tripping another person’s shadow, sending it into a puddle, or knocking the hat off of the shadow of the policeman who had just given me a jay-walking ticket. On rainy days, I’m not quite sure where he goes to, but I have a hunch that it might be Vegas. Tweet
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