The Monkey Robot Takes an Aeroplane

And nothing happens.

Monkey Robot sits in a seat. Monkey Robot sits in a coach seat. The seat is in the back of the plane. The Monkey Robot sits by itself, but there is a window. The aeroplanes window has been shielded in a clear plastic. The windows edges are round in the corners. Above the cloud cover, the sun shines through the plastic window shield, and there is light on the Monkey Robot's hands and face. This light carries no heat.
The aeroplane flies through and slightly above the cloud cover.
Here it is clean.
Here in the cloud cover everything is unsoiled. Nothing with weight is allowed to stay here. Nothing with any measure will be here. In the cloud cover all is clean and bright, and anything with weight will fall to the below.
Unless, it is coming.
Unless, it is to go.
Movement is permitted, but no one can start here or stay here.
Everything will fall to the below.
The Monkey Robot sits in an aeorplane, there is light on a Monkey Robot right hand, and there is light on a Monkey Robot face. There is a blue in the cloud cover that is lighter than will be remembered.
All will fall.
Below the cloud cover, in a bus, a woman travels East at fourteen miles an hour. Over time this woman's hair has become grizzled. The woman's hair has taken on the color of cream. She wears a shirt covered in small blue cornflowers, held between the cornflowers is the color of white.
The woman has no hurry. The woman sits beside the roadside window, but pays to mind to the view. Unaware that an aeroplane has broken through the cloud cover she reaches into her cream colored purse.
The Woman with Cream Colored Hair holds the purse open, she places all five fingers in the crack made in the purse, and pulls from the insides an unopened package of spearmint gum. Woman with Cream Colored Hair lifts the package to her nose, smells it, smells it again and then once more. Woman with Cream Colored Hair places her hand back into the purse, and her hand leaves the purse. Woman with Cream Colored Hair closes the clasp on the purse. Woman with Cream Colored Hair, opens her purse, pulls out a package of spearmint gum, she lifts it to her nose and smells it.
Woman with Cream Colored Hair lifts the package of gum close to her eyes, and places it to her nose again.
Woman with Cream Colored Hair puts the package of gum back into her purse, and closes her purse.
Woman with Cream Colored Hair says to herself:
There was a time when I was small in this world.
There was a time when I was held.
There was a time when I was to be carried.
There was a time when someone watched how close I was to the street.
The Monkey Robot passes through a cloud cover as a woman with cream colored hair lifts a package of spearmint gum to her nose, and says to herself: There was a time, when I was small in this world, and this was of no consequence.


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Disclaimer

I never could finish the MRL story. I didn't want to write about The Man from Senegal. I did want to write that he goes home to have dinner and chokes on a chicken bone. A bone that had been attached to a thigh that was seasoned just right with white pepper and lemon grass. I wanted to write about the directions that his legs jerked in and how that long tall body careened as he lurched out the doorway of his house. I so desired to find the correct words to describe the blue of suffocation that would bloom under his dark skin. I wanted to write about the people who pass him by, as he plucks with such long fingers at the the bone caught in his throat. How they are my own personal heros, looking away to check the time or what it was lodged under their fingernails, as he tumbled to the ground. I wanted to write about the dust that clings to the front and backside of that beautiful shirt of his, as he turns over in the street.

In the end I was not that person and that was not how the story ended.

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