(Diary Entry 904) Strange– like the Purple Cat on my Bed


Something rather curious happened today. It was unexpeted like stepping into my bedroom and finding a purple cat leisurely lounging on my bed as if it were right at home.

“Hey, purple cat! You’re purple– VERY COOL. I’d love to befriend you but sadly I’m allergic,”’ I’d say to that practically impossible feline. Anyway…

Jayson came home from a mission to the new Gateway Mall. I had already gone there with him last week, but he snuck back there on his own to return a hat he had bought because of defective stitching. My brother will not let anything like that side. If he or anyone he cares about has been overcharged, received lackluster service, received a half filled order of fries, missed one of the amenities when flying, etc. he will bring whatever issue up to management. Here’s the thing: he is NEVER an asshole about it. He turns on his magnanimous charm and nine times out of ten will have the problem quickly fixed with a sprinkle of some type of bonus on top. Ok back to the story…

Jayson began to tell me the story of what happened in the store and suddenly– as if I was pulled into his words,  I was right there with him. Now, I am not saying this as if Jayson spontaneously became a master storyteller, offering details so rich that I imagined that I was there. I literally mean it was like I was no longer in the kitchen and with him in the story as he told it. He spoke about the cute cashier that replaced his hat.  She gave him an additional purple fitted and her number (bonus sprinkles).  I saw it all and heard every word of their conversation that he did not give me the details of. I wonder if that was what was really said. I seriously doubt it.

I must confess that everything was hazy but there was no denying that this was something that I had never experienced before. As he continued to tell me the story I walked around the store and then stepped out and could see the entire mall; I suppose I could have explored it.  This happened while he was speaking and as soon as he stopped I was right back in the kitchen without him being the wiser of my peculiar journey. Aside from my father, I have not told anyone about how surreal my world is. No one needs to know that I’m  able to detect lies and how I can see people’s words above their heads as they speak like captions. Now,  I can do whatever I just did– traveling to the place of people’s words.  Jayson does not need to look at me like I’m a freak and question my sanity so I’m not telling him about any of that.

“Well, are you going to call her?” I asked offering no hint of what I had experienced.

“Already texted her, but I like someone else,” Jayson replied before leaving because our father called him. How lucky was he that I could not grill him on who that other person that he likes is?

Still, I’ve never had such a vivid waking dream– if that’s what it’s to be called. But it only happened when I spoke to Jayson and so far no one else. I wonder if it will ever happen again.

If I wasn’t allergic I think it would be awesome to have a purple cat.