The man takes a spoon and scoops out a ball of chocolate ice cream from a pint container. He is sitting alone in a room at a small round wooden table. He begins to eat the ice cream, slowly, relishing each small spoon full. He is thinking how absurd this is, to be sitting alone, enjoying such a pleasure, when the rest of the world is in chaos. Somewhere inside of him is chaos, though he has lost sight of it for the time being. Now, he only focuses his attention on the cool, sweet, chocolate creaminess of the ice cream. What else could there be that is more important than this delicacy? Certainly, somewhere there are wars being fought, people starving, people shooting up drugs. Is the ice cream itself not a drug? Yes, indeed it is, he thinks to himself and smiles before taking another bite of the creamy goodness. But, if it is a drug, it is certainly worth the sacrifice of a life filled with drama, disappointment, heartache. In this little room he can enjoy his ice cream without any fear or doubt. That in itself is life, is it not? Yes, indeed it is, he thinks to himself as he lets the ice cream settle on his tongue. It is just as much life as anyone could possibly ask for, so he will sit here and consume the entire pint, however long it takes. And when he is done, he will throw the empty container into a now empty trash receptacle. But why is the trash receptacle empty? Because he went to the trouble to take the full trash bag out to the trash bins sitting in front of his small porch. Yes, that much is true. But now the trash receptacle is empty and so he is completely content, even as he thinks of the putrid stench of the trash cans outside. He will finish his ice cream, throw away the container, replace the spoon in the drawer (after washing it off) and then go to bed. Yes, he thinks to himself, it is all so wonderfully simple. But then there is a knock on his door. Who could it be, at this hour of the night? He places the spoon in the container of ice cream, which is now half empty, scoots back his chair, and with a little grunt he stands up. He walks to the door and hears more knocking. “Yes, yes, just a minute,” he says, as if only to himself.
He opens the door. It is a woman, wet from rain. She looks distressed. She also looks familiar, but from where, the man cannot say for certain. She must be a neighbor.
“You’re soaked,” says the man. “Come in.”
The woman enters.
“What are you doing out in the rain at this hour of the night?” the man asks.
The woman shakes her head, as if regretfully. “Come,” says the man. “Sit down, get dry. Would you like some tea?”
The woman shakes her head. The man leads her to the table, where they sit down across from each other. He has now forgotten his ice cream, which sits melting in the container. “You seem under distress,” says the man. “What’s on your mind?”
“That’s the thing,” says the woman. “My mind is gone. It has deserted me. I feel as if I am in a dream.”
“This isn’t a dream,” the man says, and finally realizes she is his next-door neighbor.
“If it isn’t,” says the woman, “then I truly am doomed.”
“Would you like to go to the hospital?” the man asks.
“No!” cries the woman. “That would be the end of me. I only want some company.”
“Okay,” says the man. “I’ll keep you company. Only, tell me, what led you out of your house tonight?”
“I was looking for my mind,” says the woman. “I’ve lost it somewhere. I believe that it got lost in the pixels of my television screen, and traveled through the electric wires, and ended up somewhere, only God knows where.”
“You still have your mind,” says the man. “You wouldn’t be able to talk to me if you didn’t.” Yet, as the man looks into her eyes, which are constantly darting this way and that, he can tell that the woman is completely insane.
“You live a lonely life,” says the woman.
“You can tell, can you?” says the man with a smile.
“Why don’t you let me be your lover?” the woman asks.
“I fear that that is impossible,” says the man. “I would be taking advantage of you if I did that.”
“No, you wouldn’t,” says the woman. “It is what I want. You see, now that I have no mind, I must live a fully corporeal existence. Oh, I am tired.” She bows her head. “Please, take me to bed with you.”
The man shakes his head. “No, but you go to sleep now. Perhaps your mind will return in the morning.”
He gets up and leads the woman to his bed. She lays down and instantly falls asleep. The man watches her. Then, he goes to the foot of the bed and kneels and begins to pray: “Lord, let this woman’s mind return to her tonight. I ask nothing more.”
The man lays down on the carpet and falls asleep. When he wakes the next morning, the woman is still sleeping on his bed. He watches her sleep until her eyes flip open and she sits up. “Curse you!” she cries. “I had one chance to regain my mind, and you would not do what needed to be done! Now, you too must go insane!”
The man’s heart stops beating, or so it seems to him, and he feels that there is now something growing inside of him—a creature which will be born when he himself dies.
