I like my home. It’s this cozy, warm place where I can relax and think deeply. Sure, there are some flaws to it. There’s no windows, no doors. There’s really no way out at all. But at least it’s comfortable. Tight, maybe, but comfortable. And I really have no need to leave. Mr. and Mrs. I bring me all sorts of lovely images. Movies, pictures, books. They never say anything, but I like to think they are chiefly important. They I’s are really open, and kind, despite their oath of silence. They can be quite expressive. When they smile, it’s like the morning in spring. Quite a lovely sight.

Mr. Nez stops by a lot too. He always smells like the latest fragrance from Chanel. Kind of a pompous old man, but he’s kind and somewhat of a grandfather figure to me. I mean, he’s been there as long as I can remember. Of course, he never shows up when I’m sick. He can be so self important sometimes. Tells me traffic is bad, and he can’t make it out. Still, he brings me pies from down the street that fill my house with a sweet scent for days.

I think my best friends are the Earls. They are always giving me things to listen to and telling me about the day. They’re a soft spoken people themselves, often listening to me ramble on, but were it not for them I would probably have never known the value of peaceful silence. They told me about a girl I should meet, Virginia I think was her name. But that’s for another day.

Oh and then there’s my teachers. Madame Rouge and Monsieur la Main. They are just as annoying as they seem. I mean, they are so particular. They even require me to call them that. Still, I’d be nowhere without them. I mean, la Main gave me the ability to reach out to people, and the coordination to succeed in life. Mme Rouge is even weirder. She’s pretty nice, and she never stops talking, so I rarely have to interject. Sometimes she doesn’t know when to shut up though, which is supremely annoying, since she usually blames me for her mistakes. Which I guess is fair sometimes, since if I had simply made her slow down she might have had a moment to gather her words. I work with her on a daily basis, learning new words. We sometimes play games with accents, though usually that’s done when we are alone.

Oh, I’m so sorry, I’ve gone on about my life and the people in it, and I haven’t even taken the time to introduce myself. I’m Tete. At least, that’s what people call me. I do all sorts of things from my home. In fact, for as small and closed off as it is, I often take myself to whole new worlds in my alone time. Sometimes that get’s tiring, but I love it. My whole world melts away and can be replaced by nearly anything I desire. I can be in a field, in a factory, or in bed with a pretty girl. Still, sometimes I like to wallow in the depths of an ocean that I cried into existence myself. It’s somehow reassuring sometimes to know I can experience my own feelings. Anyways, I’m not sure how you got in here, and I’ve been rambling on and on for quite a while, but you’re welcome to stay a while. I’d love to hear a bit about your, but if you’d prefer I have a number of stories to tell you. What was your name again?


Can what? Can Sir? Sounds ominous. Let me grab your bags for you-Does anyone know you’re here? Well, make yourself at home, but don’t set up shop too much! I have things to do with my life.


2 thoughts on “VISITORS OF THE MIND

  1. Pingback: A YEAR IN THE BOOKS | cassadyblog

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