\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1697939-Brain
Item Icon
\"Reading Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
No ratings.
by Kaz Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Fiction · Comedy · #1697939
everyone leaves their brain behind...and go on as normal
“Sarah, wait!” The front door flung open just as the bus screeched to a halt in front of the house. Sarah’s mom, Rachel, stood waving madly with one hand, her shiny bracelets and sparkling nails reflecting the sun.
“Sarah,” she howled, “Don’t forget your brain!”
Rachel’s other hand palmed an oozing ball of spongy matter. Its pinkness dazzled with fresh childhood innocence, spackles of knowledge dripping onto unread newspaper pages scattered about the porch.
“It’s okay, Mom….” Sarah shouted back as she boarded the school bus, “We don’t need it today!”

A flyer on the ground caught Rachel’s eye, and as she bent over to fetch it, Sarah’s brain slipped out and hit the floor. One shiny flyer beamed discounts on top 40 CDs. Another offered her the chance to win a minivan, and yet one more pre-approved her for a new card--she could even chose what color scheme she wanted in the background! Today was shaping up to be a good one!

At school, some of the boys had their brains sitting on their desks, but most had stuffed them in the bottom of their backpacks. The lining of the packs helped to filter out all that foul mucousy memory and logic matter, as a putrid puss smelling of critical-thinking bled through the fabric and trailed behind them as the walked. No doubt, the boys were relieved to be slowly rid of the useless weight.

The school janitor found a few discarded brains gathering dust and mold out back. He wrung them out in the mop bucket, and tossed them on the pile with the rest. One girl, Tabatha, couldn’t find hers. It was still quite pink and in better shape than most people’s. Unknown to her, it was wedged between some dusty encyclopedia on a shelf in the library. She hadn’t been back there in quite some time though, and she’s since given up looking.

That same morning, on the subway, Sarah’s dad, Stewart, left his brain on the seat. But his boss despised employees bringing their brains to work anyway, so it was actually a blessing in disguise. He didn’t what had gone though his head in order for him to accidently bring it with him in the first place.

Stewart’s co-worker, Ryan, had almost forgotten to remove his brain before leaving the house this morning, too. He’d sat down to breakfast with the cover of the Post staring up at him, but quickly flipped it over to the sports section on the back. Yesterday’s scores reminded him to remove his brain and place it in the corner, beside the dog dish, where it belongs. Ryan’s quite an impressive guy. He can tell you nearly every player in the league’s hometown, position, uniform number, and junior team!

Back home, Sarah’s mom nearly stumbled over her own grey, festering, brain, as she grabbed a pack of Marlborough’s off the TV. She plunked herself down on the sofa, fished the remote out of the cushions, and began to focus real hard on a commercial for anti-depressants. After a few hours, with her show echoing in the background, she puttered around the house, seeing what to microwave for dinner, and then tidied up a little. She stashed everyone’s brains under the bed next to some exercise equipment she’d ordered a few years back.

Occasionally, a few of the older kids at Sarah’s school had to bring their brains so they could memorize dates and names. Luckily, they wouldn’t need to remember the dates and names later, though. It was only for now, so they could pass the test and show their parent’s they were doing well. Sarah watched two older boys talking about something confusing. They were using big words and looked so serious. What a couple of weirdo losers! She was glad she didn’t have the burden of packing around a brain like they did.
At lunch, Sarah and her friends went to McDonald’s again. Sarah flipped through the advertisements in a fashion magazine while her friends sent each other text messages and cute little digital faces on their cell phones. The kids at the next booth weren’t talking either. But that was because they were all on meds. Along with some aging text books, a handful of video game cases, and some jackets, a few brains littered the benches, slowly dripping onto the floor and mixing with old sticky cola.

Meanwhile, back at the office, Stewart got a coke from the machine and then proceeded to fumble the knob of an old radio. It was all they had, and it only picked up AM. He was desperate to find something other than news or boring political discussions. Ryan was in another room, delirious with joy. He’d just auctioned off his whole family’s brains to an ad firm in Singapore! How exciting!

What are you doing with your brain today?
© Copyright 2010 Kaz (powerofapathy at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1697939-Brain