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Writer's pictureClint Haugen

Mrs. Mermaid Sage Lady

I close my eyes

And she comes to see me

My mermaid sage appears

On my ceiling

A swirling green mist follows her

She waves at me to follow her

I shake my head

“No,” I say

“I am comfortable here.”

She smiles and keeps waving

I sigh

And float up to her

She takes my hand

And pulls me through my ceiling


It’s dark out

The sun left us hours ago


We float overtop of the city

The lights below flicker


It’s quiet

It’s still

Yet still

It doesn’t feel calm

It feels like the moments before a bomb gets dropped


We stop

And she turns to me

And comes real close to my ear

Where she whispers

“The body is unconscious.”


“Huh?” I ask in confusion. Then I look down at my floating body.


She whispers again, “The body is unconscious.”


Her green tail is wagging back and forth, as she floats in the air.

Her hair is red and is blowing in the wind.

Her voice is soft and seductive.


“The body is unconscious,” I repeated back to her.


She nods.

Then she points out to the flickering lights below.

“The city is unconscious.”


“Really?”


She nods again.


“The city is unconscious?”


She snapped her fingers and we were floating above the United states.


“The country is unconscious.”


“Are you sure?”


She nodded again.


“What about the collectiv—


She snapped her fingers again, and we were above the world. It sat there, gently floating in space, suspended in a beam of light.


“Conscious,” she said, pointing to my planet.


“Uh, Mrs. Mermaid Sage Lady, that doesn’t make sense?”


She smiled softly at me, and then took her hand and ran it down my cheek.

She took my hand in hers and pushed it up against my chest, feeling my beating heart.


“Listen,” she says. “Feel.”


I close my eyes and feel my heartbeat.


“It gives off a pulsing magnetic field.”


“Huh,” I say.


“And so does she,” she says pointing back to earth.


“Really?”


She nodded.


“So, the body is the unconscious? The city is the unconscious? And so is the country? But, as a whole, we are conscious?”

She floated away from me, closed her eyes, spread out her arms and started to spin.


“All of this,” she gestured to all of time and space, “is the unconscious.”


“Well, I hope my unconscious understands this, because I sure as shit don’t.”


She snapped her fingers and I opened my eyes in my bed. I was looking up and my ceiling, but now there was just a ceiling fan slowly spinning around in a circle.



CH 12/3/23

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