Wandering down the street in no particularly enthralling manner, Gerald stopped to sniff the air. It was cool, moist, with a distinct aftersmell (much like an aftertaste, but for your nose) of purple. His brow became slightly furrowed, as he wondered why on earth the air should have an aftersmell of purple. Come to think of it; Gerald had never even noticed that aftersmells existed. He sniffed again; no, it was definitely an aftersmell. Shrugging; he set off once more – to only stop when something else registered in his mind. How on earth did he manage to smell a colour, let alone identify that same smell as a colour, when five minutes ago he was sure that colours did not, in fact, have a smell attached? His brow furrowed just as it did before, as he tried to comprehend the smell of a colour. He sniffed once more. It was definitely purple, for some reason unknown to him.
Gerald made a mental note to be more aware of his experiences and surroundings. He seemed to live his life on autopilot, whilst his brain was almost permanently on holiday (without bringing his consciousness with it, so Gerald didn’t even get to see what fun and exciting places his brain had been to). As a matter of fact, Gerald couldn’t even be sure that his brain was on holiday at all, since he had not officially been informed of the fact; it was all a supposition of an unknowing optimist.
Abiding by his earlier mental note, he called his brain and waited patiently for it to stop hanging around the pool (if it was indeed on holiday, as Gerald had suspected). He suddenly felt rather envious of his brain, which seemed to live a rather exciting life without him.
He noticed another presence. ‘Ah’, he thought, ‘So you’ve decided to return, have you?’
‘Who said I ever really left?’
‘Don’t you patronize me! I’m not that thick without you, you know!’
‘So why did you bother calling me here just to say that you don’t really need my help to live a rather satisfied and fulfilled life?’
Gerald felt a presence beginning to disappear.
‘Oi! Don’t go! I do need you!’
‘A very fine way to show it and all – all that “I’m not thick without you” nonsense.’
‘You forgot the “that”.’
‘What?’
‘I said “I’m not that thick without you”; not “I’m not thick without you.”’
‘There you go doing it again! Demeaning my presence, my whole existence! My lord, haven’t you ever wondered why I spend so much time off?’
‘Well, I can’t really wonder a whole lot without you, you see--’
‘Right! That’s it; I’m off!’
‘No! Don’t leave me alone, I need you!’
‘Don’t be silly. I always leave you the typewriter, don’t I?’ In his brain’s absence, Gerald possesses a mental typewriter to jot down all the questions, all the conversations, all the interesting shapes of clouds he sees, to be stored in large mental filing cabinets to all be processed by his brain at a later date. This is one of the reasons why his brain rarely returns; there is always a mountain of paper work to be done.
‘What good is a typewriter when things need to be processed now?’
‘Oh, all right. What do you need to know, then?
‘Thank you,
‘I’m not sorting the filing cabinets’
‘I never as--’
‘And it better not be too taxing. I’ve got places to be, you know.’
‘You’re supposed to be here all the time. You spend too much time off, anyway.’
‘I’m leaving if all you called me for is to have a bit of a lecture.’
‘No, don’t go! That’s not it at all, yo--’
‘That’s good. What do you want to kno--’
‘Stop interrupting me!’
‘Ooh, look at the pot calling the kettle black!’
‘Shut up! I need to know about my surroundings now, and also a lot more often. The details are filed away.’
‘…’
‘Well? Why aren’t you talking?
‘You told me to shut up’
‘You can tell me the answer and then you can shut up, only talking when talked to.’
‘Right. Well, your surroundings are quite odd. How did you get here?’
‘What do you mean? I’m walking to Aunty Audrey’s house.’
‘Well, you seem to be encompassed in what I can only describe as purple.’
‘Is that good?’
‘I have no idea. Now I’m going, otherwise I shall be late for a rather pressing engagement.’
‘I would never get so much grief if I had a normal brain.’
‘Goodbye.’
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