Animal Crack
The animal crackers were talking to me again, this time in whispers. Inaudible at first, when you didn’t pay close enough attention to the rhythm of their speeches. Their voices like slaves freed from their chains and running away into the wilderness, confused but free, hurt but cured, as they moaned their hard and warranted tears. Their eyes shut yet open, and their mouths heavy yet agape. They feared what I would do to them. Their fear seemed real, but I didn’t have much regard for their biased opinions anyway. The Lion was the first to come up to this conclusion in speech, this fear they all shared, sitting in the decorative glass candy dish on the table of my therapist's office. My back was edged against the couch. …show more content…
“It might help you conquer this fear you have.” “Well, it’s a long story.” “That’s okay. I’ve got some time to spare.” At first, I struggled. I shrugged it off and told him that it was just something that happened and there was nothing to help it. But he pressed on, just sitting there, listening, his expression carried weight. The story came out in parts. At first, I was confused what to tell him exactly, what I would even tell myself. Ever since I was a child, growing up with my mother, my father away and on another one of his business trips, my father would send me animal crackers. Kind of a weird thing to receive, I guess, but I guess he probably remembered me eating them at a time when he was home. He didn’t know me all that much, and I didn’t know him that much either. Just how he spoke to my mother. The animal crackers were ordinary in appearance, but while I was sleeping—well, I had my eyes shut and my body under the covers—, something stirred in the darkness. Tiny feet tiptoed across my bedroom floor, so soft that the floor made all the sound, the mouse-sized creaking. I knew it wasn’t a mouse. A mouse squeaked. This didn’t. Instead, it spoke: “Hey!” At first, I ignored it. I thought I was dreaming it all, but then it spoke again: “You! I’m talking to
The animal crackers were talking to me again, this time in whispers. Inaudible at first, when you didn’t pay close enough attention to the rhythm of their speeches. Their voices like slaves freed from their chains and running away into the wilderness, confused but free, hurt but cured, as they moaned their hard and warranted tears. Their eyes shut yet open, and their mouths heavy yet agape. They feared what I would do to them. Their fear seemed real, but I didn’t have much regard for their biased opinions anyway. The Lion was the first to come up to this conclusion in speech, this fear they all shared, sitting in the decorative glass candy dish on the table of my therapist's office. My back was edged against the couch. …show more content…
“It might help you conquer this fear you have.” “Well, it’s a long story.” “That’s okay. I’ve got some time to spare.” At first, I struggled. I shrugged it off and told him that it was just something that happened and there was nothing to help it. But he pressed on, just sitting there, listening, his expression carried weight. The story came out in parts. At first, I was confused what to tell him exactly, what I would even tell myself. Ever since I was a child, growing up with my mother, my father away and on another one of his business trips, my father would send me animal crackers. Kind of a weird thing to receive, I guess, but I guess he probably remembered me eating them at a time when he was home. He didn’t know me all that much, and I didn’t know him that much either. Just how he spoke to my mother. The animal crackers were ordinary in appearance, but while I was sleeping—well, I had my eyes shut and my body under the covers—, something stirred in the darkness. Tiny feet tiptoed across my bedroom floor, so soft that the floor made all the sound, the mouse-sized creaking. I knew it wasn’t a mouse. A mouse squeaked. This didn’t. Instead, it spoke: “Hey!” At first, I ignored it. I thought I was dreaming it all, but then it spoke again: “You! I’m talking to