Ava Galbraith
Over the Edge
She could not stop laughing.
Time is a makeshift tangency that justifies existence; but to Sue, time rolls like a wave. She views the world through conscious eyes and then narrates the story of herself and others, the characters on a vast stage.
They often fumble.
Rolling, diving, in and out. Sue jumps off the world.
The ancient scholars are wrong.
No monsters.
No beguiling adventures.
Over the edge and back again: maybe this is a bad trip.
Sue could not stop smiling.
The world is a board game; she the master and the people her puppets. She likes the wave; the guilt of her person and the immense control of the narrator.
She enjoys the prowess of her new outlook. Sue, acknowledging she is not the main character of her story, is a whirligig spinning out of control.
The real world lacks spontaneity and discord.
She could not stop twirling.
The fall was like dips in a roller coaster that leave riders thrilled, afraid, wanting.
The realm outside of existence lacks programs, rules, fundamentals.
Maybe Alice was right to follow the rabbit. Sue has escaped the endlessness of reality, the circular path of life, the roundness of Earth.
The edge of the world, of the mind, is far less dull.
Sue could play.
She could be happy.
Normal.
She does not have to wear a stiff jacket.
Dr. Nelson sits on a minuscule, overly plushy stool in the corner of an equally plushy foam padded room.
Sue looks beyond him.
“Where have you gone?”
“Elsewhere.” Her body shudders, her arms struggle against her constraints.
“Where?” Dr. Nelson clicks his pen twice, Sue’s head twitches after each click.
“Away, away, away.”
Sue would not stop laughing.
About the writer:
Ava Galbraith is fascinated by unexpected turns in stories, particularly the reveal of villains. She dives deep into characters’ psyches and uses stream of consciousness to tell stories. Her work has been published in Ripples In Space podcast, The Dewdrop, Finding the Birds, and San Joaquin Review. When not developing intriguing flash fiction, she competes in equestrian show jumping and enjoys immersing herself in foreign cultures. Ava lives in Tucson, Arizona.
Image: Far Away Thoughts by John William Godward (1861-1922). Oil on canvas. 39.4 x 39.4 inches. 1911. Public domain.
