Sarah called me today. I didn't want her
to, she is always doing things I don't want her to do. She called and started talking before I could say hello.
I could see her words as she spoke them; harsh angry colors. Dark red, burnt orange flowing from the phone and flowing into my eyes. My hands were shaking, I needed her to be quiet, but I couldn't let go of the phone. The only connection I had to her.
She told me she was leaving and would not be back. She said a lot of things but I could not listen; the words were fighting to get into my eyes. I couldn't talk, I tried I tried I tried to listen as long as I could. She said she was sorry, things were different now, she was different now. I didn't want to talk, there were too many other things, but no talking. So I cut her off. I can not hear without seeing the words come from her mouth. The phone changes their frequency. I see all the words. Most are dull gray. Her name Sarah is a color. Sarah is cerulean.
"Your name is like a sigh," I said.
"Wh - what did you say?"
"Your name is like a sigh," I said again.
"What does that mean? Is that an insult? Because if it is, then your na..."
"Stop. I don't want to argue. I just wanted to say something that was real. Something I had never said before."
She
actually stopped talking and was listening. I wasn't sure what to say next. I didn't want to talk anymore. But she did.
"
"Why did you say that?" She asked.
"That's how I think of your name when I need..
.focus. Your name is like..
.peace. It's
zen when I say it. Your name is like a sigh. Sarah. Sar ah. Sar
ahhh. It
gives me comfort when I say it."
"You never said that before. Why does saying my name make you happy? Does that mean if my name was Amy or Debbie or Linda or something like that you wouldn't be happy?"
She would shut up. She hears me but she is not listening. I can't take this anymore, no matter how much she means to me this has to
end. I don't want to talk and that's all she does. Talking makes me nervous. I can't keep up with words and their changes. It's a problem, my problem, but I only know one way to fix it. I only fracture when I lose the words. I can't lose the words, I lose creation.
Everything was created with a word. Chaos comes from words, order from chaos, order becomes words, words lead to more chaos. I wanted to shove my fingers into my eyes. So I picked up my knife and began to sharpen it as I listen to her continue to talk. The
shhtck shhtck of the knife against the whetstone drowned out her words.
"I'm sick, I need help," I told her. The words felt like razors leaving my mouth. "I don't know who to trust." I continued to sharpen the knife as I spit out the razor words. "I want to fix this." The knife was almost sharp enough.
"You can trust me, I can help. You've never asked for help before. But I will. I'll help you. I just need to know we have something, we never talk about this stuff. I'm coming over."
She hung up the phone and at last, the talking stopped. But it's gonna start again as soon as she gets here. If she would just sit and let me look at her and not talk. I would do anything she wanted if she would use real words to tell me...anything. The truth is saying her name really is like a mantra; it stops the fractures. But I really don't need her. Just her name. She is coming over because she thinks I will change. She will die because I know she never will.
Glenn Crace
Cincinnati, OH
January 2020
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