Me and the Russian

I went for a walk through the field with Russian President Vladimir Putin. We held hands. It was his idea. I went along with it because I’m easily intimidated by big-wigs.

I mentioned that I like to be in a field because I’m taller than all the wheat. It’s not something I could say if I was walking in the forest amongst trees.

Putin said that he liked walking in the field because it allows him to forget about all the things he had to do that day as President. I said that I completely understood. Again, I’m overwhelmed by people in power. That’s why I had to stop hanging out with President Richard Nixon when I was a kid.

Brooks in the aqueduct

It hadn’t rained for months, so I chose to take a walk through the dry aqueduct. I liked this because of the immense silence. Usually there was a strong and raging river present.

I also enjoyed that I was now the river rolling through the aqueduct. Being Brooks, it was just that I assumed this role.

The movement of my arms and legs were waves, my breath the sound of waves. I looked about me as I was certain a wave would do. I caught sight above me at a flock of storks who flew at my rate and speed. Traveling with a current is a common occurrence among packs of birds.

I imagined runoffs of water flowing into the aqueduct and merging with me. We would be the Brookses!

Hanging out with Luther the Fruit fly

I spent the day hanging out with my friend, Luther the Fruit-fly. Let me first say that I didn’t write “Fruit-fly” to point out that he’s that particular species. He likes his first name to be included with this particular moniker.

Anyway, we talked about how we’ve been friends longer with each other than any other friend we’ve ever known – 13 years. The longest I’ve ever been friends with someone else was with Morris the catfish. And I’m including the four years in the middle that we couldn’t stand each other.

Luther the Fruit-fly said, “I like how you smell. It’s like French fries dipped in lavender. Sometimes I can’t even hear the words you are saying because I’m so entranced by your smell.”

I said, “I like how we can wrestle in the grass for hours and it never feels sexual.”

Where’d it go?

I was out for a walk when I felt something was wrong. I couldn’t figure out what. I was going nuts trying to come up with the source of my worry.

And then it hit me: I didn’t have a shadow. The sun was streaming down on me, but there was no shade of my body on the ground.

I turned around really fast hoping to catch the shadow, as if it had been hiding. But nope. I even lifted up my foot, and no shadow was to be found.

I looked around at other things: the tree, a telephone pole, a car, other people – they all had shadows.

I closed my eyes for a long moment, hoping it was just a trick of the eye, but when I opened my eyes, still not there.

That’s when my cell phone rang. I answered and the voice said, “It’s me, your shadow. I’m sorry I couldn’t be with you today. I became the shadow for a woman named Tricia. It’s a better fit for me. I hope you don’t mind. Anyway, I gotta go.”

I looked down at the sunlight all around me.

I looked up at the Sun and said, “Are you’re okay with this?”

The Sun said, “I don’t give a shit what you do.”

Laying on the living room floor with the ghost of Charles Mathews

I was laying on my living room floor. It’s one of my most favorite things to do. I can lay on there for hours. I’ll get up and get a drink of water if I’m thirsty, but then I’ll come right back and lay down on the floor.

The other day I was laying down on the floor when I was visited by the ghost of Charles Mathews, the comic actor who was once famous in 1800’s London.

The ghost of Charles Mathews said, “Can I lay on the floor with you?”

I said yes. We laid there for a bunch of hours. He shared wild stories from his theater days, like the time he and Charles Dickens had an orange eating contest on the Covenant Garden Theater. The ghost of Charles ate 89 oranges and Dickens ate 112.

I talked about the time I when I was five and got lost in the Grand Canyon. For three days there were 119 Grand Canyon Rangers out looking for me. The whole time I was sitting in a cave with a coyote named Fwidge Wilked. We talked about all kinds of things, like how life seems to not move forward, but moves around in place. We also went hunting for rabbits, and ate at least four. When I was found by the Rangers, I asked them to make Fwidge and honorary Ranger. They said they would. But I didn’t know if they did.