Click's hero is experiencing glitches in the universe. He may have tapped into a strange ability which gives him control over the world around him. Or, there's the disturbing possibility that he's a case study in paranoid schizophrenia. After all, they might be after him. He's falling apart -- and to make matters worse, his girlfriend may just be crazier than he is. Forced to face his fears and come to terms with his own flawed nature, he must discover what it means to truly evolve.
this time, it’s just a cup of coffee. i watch it fall and shatter, fall and shatter, fall and shatter, an ocean’s worth or more. and then, as if it never happened, my reﬂexes are a bit faster, and i don’t drop the cup, and i hear, or maybe feel, the click. i’m left holding the cup, so surprised at this new turn of events that i spill it all over myself anyway.
later, i’m sitting on a park bench losing myself in a book, imagining myself deep down in a well. thank you. the words repeat themselves inside my head, slowly coming into focus, and i feel myself rising to the surface, brought back to the here and now. thank you, she repeats, and when i look over at her, recognition shocks me into silence. she’s sitting right up against me, close enough that i want to back away, but i’m already at the end of the bench. her smile is taking up half her face, but it still doesn’t have anything on her eyes. oh there you are, she’s saying, i wasn’t sure where you were. thank you for saving my life.
i’m a deer in headlights, this entire interaction thoroughly out of my control. i’m trying to ﬁgure out her words. i string them together, repeat them silently to myself, and it dawns on me that she knows. somehow she knows i saved her. i’m wondering how she found me, was she locked in that moment too?
that guy over there, and she points off into the distance at no one in particular, that guy was following me. i think he was going to kill me. so i sat next to you, pretending i was with you. that made him go away. you saved me.
i look her over. she’s short, petite, blond hair. cute. there’s a ﬁre in her, a way about her. what’s your name, i ask, and she mumbles it under her breath like she’s afraid to be known. i don’t quite catch it but it doesn’t feel right to ask her again.
we spend the day together. not a moment seems forced, we have that rare and elusive connection. we’re the children at the dawn of summer racing out of the house to play in the ﬁelds, holding hands through high grass exploring our new world. we’re the mess of little hands racing haphazardly to complete the last few pieces of the puzzle, joining as one to put the last in place.
somehow it’s already evening, the sun is setting, the sky darkening in purples and blues. we decide to get food and wander into a small joint, cozy and warm in its dim candlelight. i can’t really afford the place but i don’t let myself think about it. when my pasta comes i dig in, savoring the elegant sauce. she picks at hers brieﬂy and then gently motions for the waiter. he comes over, she whispers into his ear and he takes her plate away. she’s a pleasure to watch, so gentle in her actions, polite and graceful, so much so that i don’t even bother asking why she sent it back.
afterwards, we grab a drink at a bar. we’re sitting at a back booth, people are dancing to the music. we’re cuddling together, watching everyone.
and suddenly, everything is different.
when i talk to her, she doesn’t respond. she was pressing into me, whispering into my ear. smiling and joking, her soft laugh, her eyes and lips suggestive and alluring. but now her eyes are all over the room, ﬂitting around in their sockets like buzzing ﬂies. her face is still, pulled in on itself, as if she’s suffering silently through some great agony and trying hard not to let it show.
i put my hand on her knee, but she pulls back from me, a frightened animal. her eyes are centered on my hands, her mouth quivering. she doesn’t even know who i am. no, it’s more than that, she’s not even here, she’s fallen deep into somewhere else, some place dark and scary.