Briiiiiiiiiing! Potato Phone!

The potato just would not stop ringing. Jenna looked at it with disdain as she lit a cigarette, exhaling her annoyance. Outside the children shrieked like banshees, the family dog barking at their feet as they ran about untamed.

The dishes in the sink began to shake, letting off a terrible racket. "I'm coming!" she huffed, pulling herself off the chaise. Letting off one last clank they settled down, content for now in the knowledge that they would be tended to.

---

“It is sometimes an appropriate response to reality to go insane.”

-Philip K. Dick, VALIS

---

The house was spotless, carpets vacuumed in perfect zig zags framed furniture that looked as if it were from an ad. Jenna picked the potato up and tried to answer it once more. The joker on the other end stayed silent, as they had all afternoon.

Lashing out in exasperation, Jenna threw the potato into the trash violently. As she yanked the bag from the can it ripped, sending debris across the gleaming floor. The tears welled up once more.


Voices attempted to cancel each other out in the hubbub of play, each lad determined to show his merit over the others. Simon sighed in annoyance as he missed the ball once more, the rough leather of the football teased him, brushing his fingertips briefly before hitting the ground. "Good going wuss" Frank from across the street sneered, he was missing his front teeth.

Frank's dad was so proud of him, as the team's quarterback Frank was always such a big deal. Simon was lucky he even got to sit on the bench he thought ruefully, his face creasing in frustration. In the violent way of boy friendship, Frank slammed against his shoulder as he passed, an unspoken encouragement in the gesture. The game went on.

Pickle the family dog weaved in and out of the group of boys as they ran about, wagging her tail in happiness. Suddenly Frank froze, the ball he was about to catch a moment ago smacked right into his face. There were no chiding comments from the gang, as every last one had stopped to stare with gaping mouths, their eyes widened in wonder. Pickle barked, failing to alert Jenna to what she was doing, as she made her way over to the garbage bin.

---

“You’re only given a little spark of madness. You mustn’t lose it.” - Robin Williams.

---

A whistle rang out from one of the boys, flushing Simon's freckled face with the burn of humiliation.

His mother continued walking, blissfully unaware that ten preteen boys were watching her take the trash out in a slip. Unaware of really anything in fact, as she took the bag containing the ringing potato briskly to the receptacle in a cloud of rage.

Bits of refuse clung to her; one coffee ground smeared knee accessorized her tomato-stained slip. At least her hair looked nice Simon thought, it had been days since she had curled it. The rumble of a car in the driveway snapped Simon to attention, he had to act quick!

Running like his fellows had never seen him run before, Simon closed the gap between he and his mother in an instant. Hissing through clenched teeth he pleaded with her "Mom! what are you doing?" the words seemed to flow right off her, connecting to nothing.

The sudden terror of what his father would do if he saw this jolted Simon to action, and he threw his mother over his shoulder, sprinting towards the house. His father met him at the backdoor, wrath seething in his round face.

---

“There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness.” ― Friedrich Nietzsche

---

The honk of a horn, followed by the song of the city, snapped Simon back to reality. "What'dya think you was gonna do numb nuts?!" A middle-aged man in a grey cap begins yelling to the man driving the car in front of him, almost hitting his fender in an attempt to parallel park.

Looking ahead, Simon sees his corner a few blocks up. Thank goodness, he breathed in relief, he was eager to drink several glasses of whiskey, and hope he could convince Rachelle to come over... the whiskey would probably have to do.

This day sucked every time it can around, but this year was different... It had now been a decade since he had set eyes on his mother, this was the tenth birthday of hers that left him wondering. Was she even alive? What had happened? Happy birthday mom, if you're out there...


Xanga stretched as he got out of bed, the muscles of his thighs making Jenna wish he wouldn't go. "Do you remember when we first met?" his voice is barely above a whisper, betraying the sadness he must also be feeling. Who knew?

"Of course I do, dear." and her voice does that thing he hates. You can take a housewife out of a home, but you can't take the homemaker from her essence. "I do appreciate all that you have done for me, and you know that I wish...." his fingertips meet her lips.

"I understand" his purple eyes shine with the ghosts of tears that he won't allow to fall, at least not now. The way the candlelight hits his azure skin grips Jenna's heart with a nauseating ache.

---

“Understand me. I’m not like an ordinary world. I have my madness, I live in another dimension and I do not have time for things that have no soul.” ― Charles Bukowski

---

She couldn't hide anymore. The day she had finally been able to receive his call, he had only asked "Are you ready?" and she didn't need the details. He had saved Jenna from the the white tile of the sanitorium bathroom, clutching her deftly as he pulled her through the frame of a mirror.

The itchy gown washed in too much starch had clung to a shaking body, drenched in sweat from the medications, as she blinked in the eerie light of the otherworld.

Whatever Xanga was didn't LOVE like she did though. The time they spent together was liberating, taking her away from Friday pot roasts and her husbands wave to signify he wanted another beer... She had been free here. But now it was time she left, really it was well past due.

Somewhere back on the earth she had grown up on, Simon would hopefully greet her warmly. She could reemerge with bravery, and ask for the divorce no woman would have asked for in the days she spent losing herself in a perfect home. She knew now, she was never mad. The world was.