Mental Fart

It’s funny how the air talks about itself in the third person. I guess it’s better that way. The truth is, the body that holds the hand found peace in the Air’s words at first. The rope was on the floor and the fingers were playing with rays of light while the nose enjoyed the salty and fishy smell of the afternoon. Suddenly the mouth said:

Mouth: but what if… What if it’s not a rope? What if another hand is reaching out for mine? I don’t want blisters… but I don’t wanna let go.

The air sighed and said:

Air: how many times will you confuse a hand for a rope? How many times do you need to bleed before you can finally accept?
The hand and the mouth tightened because the ears knew it was true. This conversation had happened many times before but with different words, even in different languages. The left eyed dropped a tear, but the mind was tired of that, so it was just one tear.

Air: It doesn’t matter what you want. I’ll be waiting because one day you’ll wake up and you’ll want to hold on to me and, for the rest of your life, only me.

The ears ignored once again, showing no faith on what was said. The hand went to reach that other hand and before it got to it, the second hand flinched. It was very brief, it was a subtle movement that lasted less than half a second, but the eyes saw it. Usually the body parts don’t meddle in each other’s businesses, they trust and help one another, but there are some cases when a body part is saying something and the rest of the body just does the opposite. When the eyes captured the flinch, the legs suddenly filled with energy and took one step back. The hand was annoyed but just tried to readjust and hold on tight again. But the legs felt immediate danger that had to be solved; so bursting with rage, they ran. They suddenly ran a desperate run and pulling abruptly both hands apart.

The body was very far from its staring point. The hand was cold now, hating the legs. And the legs were tired but proud.