Inside His Mind

I had always said, “If I could get inside his head, I could sort through all the clutter, and my husband might become a new man.” Well, one night after a heated argument, some higher power decided to grant my wish. I was shrunk down to the size of a common housefly, but I wasn’t granted the wings. It was left to my discretion what path I would use to get inside his head. I weighed my options.

The ear would be a direct path, but if ear wax is anything like quicksand, death was possible. Then there was the nose, but the thought of that jungle of hair, snot, and boogers turned my stomach.

The mouth might work. I climbed in between the lips, over the teeth, and on the tongue. The tongue was like walking on a soft mattress, and it was hard to keep my balance. I held my sleeve over my nose to block out the halitosis. I got to the back of the throat, and I jumped for the uvula. It was more elastic than I had imagined. I couldn’t climb the thick, moist hanging pendulum, so I had to enter via the eye.

I climbed into the pupil. It was an eerie dark tunnel. When I reached the back of the eye, I saw the frontal lobe of the brain. I scaled the brain as if it were a mountain, keeping my footing by finding ridges to support myself as I ascended. Finally, I reached the top of the brain. It was a tad slippery up there, and I lost my footing, falling into a deep groove. I got up, brushed myself off, and continued to walk. I took careful, baby steps as I followed the path made by the groove, until I reached a corridor that aroused my interest.

Walking down the corridor, I saw little round windows made of transparent membrane. I was curious. Peeking inside the first one, I saw my husband shooting a big buck. Maybe these are memories, I thought as I made my way to the next window. Inside he was playing high school football and scoring the winning touchdown. He never played football. I pushed my face up to the next window. Embarrassed, I jumped back: it was Pamela Anderson in a shower covered in nothing but soap suds. That’s when it hit me. These must be his fantasies.

I decided I had seen enough and moseyed along to the next corridor. Inside a small room were stacks of things to remember. It was a messy pile of papery thoughts, and I discovered that all my to do lists for him were on the bottom. I carefully slid them from the bottom, placing them on top, and straightened the stack. Maybe now they’ll get done, I told myself.

I had to hurry. I wasn’t sure how much time I had left. The next corridor led to another small space with months of the year attached to a wall made of gray tissue, but the numbers were jumbled all around them. I now knew why he forgot birthdays and anniversaries. I put the right numbers with the right months, hoping that might fix the problem.

As I made my way through the grooves, I was hit by a flying thought. It knocked me on my butt. I stood up, but had to quickly duck to miss the others as they flew toward me. I took a right turn to avoid being struck again. I saw a rather large space and began walking in that direction. I heard some strange moaning sounds, and opted to go the other way. If those were his dreams, I didn’t want to know. The male mind can be perverted at times.

I looked around and found a space that had long, various colored tubes labeled with words: money, children, family, friends etc. They were attached to numbered orifices on the other side. I get it. These are his priorities, I said to myself. They were such a mess, I decided to take a chance and do some rewiring. Hopefully now he'll have his priorities straight.


I was on my way out, thinking I had messed with his mind enough until I heard a tranquil sound coming from another dark space in the back of his mind. I was drawn by the sweet, relaxing rhythm. I walked into the space and saw pictures playing above me like a slide show. They were pictures of our wedding, the children's births, and our first date. Oh how sweet, I thought, these must be his most precious memories. I sat down and was entranced by the melody as I watched the pictures change in front of me.

Suddenly, my hands and feet began to tingle. I thought that it might be a signal that I was getting ready to change back, so I ran. Running as fast as my legs would carry me, I slipped, sliding down a brain groove like a slide. I ended up in his nose, swinging from a hair. It must have irritated his sinuses because he sneezed, and I was shot out of his nose like a human cannon ball. Landing on his soft stomach, I was safe. I slid off his belly and lay down on the bed next to him. I quickly returned to my normal size.

I awoke the next morning to the clatter of dishes, and the smell of bacon. I threw on my robe and made my way to the kitchen. What a sight! My husband was cooking breakfast for us all.

"Honey, why didn't you wake me?" I questioned.

"I thought I'd let you sleep in for a change. Oh! and after breakfast we're going out to buy that paint you wanted for the bedroom, so we can get started on the redecorating." He smiled as he busily flipped his eggs.

I sat down at the table proud of myself. I did it.


word count# 999