An interlude

Forgive me.

I am not so good at telling stories. It’s a human things, and I am not… well. You like them with a beginning, a middle, and end. You like them with conflict, that gets resolved in an unexpected way. Your lives are not like this. Is this why you like it so much?

I’m sorry. This is already not going as I thought.

I thought you might like some context. I am told ‘not too much’ by my friend, who urges me to keep some mystery, some secrets, until the revelation is most effective. I will abide by this.

Some context.

Once, there was a body. The body was short, stocky, muscular. Over the muscles, it ran to fat. You would call it a female body, because it possessed breasts and a vagina, but this confuses me. I am female, and possess none of those things. Nevertheless, you have decided that an accidental factor of birth is what decides these things. I disagree, but that’s not what this is about.

The body had brown skin all over. Pantone 7-14-C.

(Currently, not my currently but your currently, story currently – the body is sitting in a run-down examination room, hearing two people argue in a separate office)

On top of the body was a head, as is normal, and the head had a face, as is also normal. The face wasn’t pretty, and wasn’t ugly. It was an average sort of face. The face of an ordinary person. It had a pointed chin and a broad flat nose and average-sized eyes that were very dark brown. It had hair, too, but my friend is laughing and shaking her head, and so I gather that the hair shouldn’t be mentioned. Only, it was a mess.

In the head was a mind (why keep it in such a dangerous, vulnerable place?) and that’s where the context comes in, because the mind was mush. You know this, of course, because you’ve been told but – it’s a little more complex than the human thing that called herself Red 87 could possible know.

Red 87 was in there, of course, stumbling around and trying to make sense of something impossible. But…

I have permission; I was in there too. Or, not me, but a part of me. Guiding, trying to help. My brother was there, too.

And that was the problem, after all.