Reading with Miranda

We first met at the Fiction Desk. We were checking out the same book. When I first saw Miranda she was loitering by the Soap Center. I bought some bleach and told her this was the first page.

Thus began our days of gladiolas and lacksadasies. I fell in love with her radiator teeth and jalapeno tongue. They made my dragons sing. I caressed her and the roses breathed. Her palm tree hips rode my wind drum horse. The pages were turning cartwheels of ecstasy, cartwheels of joy.

Miranda had brick windows and x-ray eyes. "A salmon trout leapt out of the venetian blinds into a picture frame pool," she told me. Or was it into the frying pan? I should have takes notes on everything inside of Miranda quotes.

That summer Miranda kept a bat in the refrigerator. One night in July, she had a dream as deep as hibernation. However, when she opened her eyes the next morning, the bat flew into our bedroom. The refrigerator was missing and she couldn't remember the dream. That was a strange paragraph in our lives.

The next chapter brought several dramatic changes. Sure we had to eat a lot of canned goods and fast food burgers, but the worst part was Miranda seemed constantly elsewhere. I couldn't believe what I was reading. She would often be out of town for long periods to attend UFO conventions across the globe. Even when Miranda was at home, she was somewhere else: constantly pouring over maps of the Milky Way, painting nebulae pastels, or watching the George Lucas commentary track for "Star Wars."

I thought we were checking out a romance novel together. What went wrong? Then one day, I read the back of her copy. It turns out she was reading the Science Fiction version. Not only was she reading different content than I but this also meant she was at least one chapter ahead of me. No wonder the wind drum horse had been put out to pasture.

I returned my copy to the Fiction Desk that very night. I had to pay a late fee but it was worth it to end the plot of this sad romance. When I left the library, I saw threatening lights in the heavens. Suddenly, my refrigerator fell out of the sky like a giant exclamation mark onto my head, killing me instantly.



Eric Roalson lives in Iowa City, Iowa. While his day job keeps food on the table, his real passions are poetry, movies, music, and spiritual philosophy. Phantom kangaroos do exist in his personal universe.