Tiny Dragon
Time always seemed to stands still when I looked at something small; a crumb on a table with bits around it like a tiny bolder that has been smashed to pieces; a single hair on my arm as if a thin black tower extending up from the dry dessert of my arm. It was almost like I had a superpower. To look at the little details, often overlooked in the eyes of others seemed to causes the synapses in my brain to slow. I mean, I know that’s not how it works, but that's how it feels. For whatever reason, the intimate nature between me and the mundane moves everything else in life aside in that single moment.
I lay, with my back to the ground; the warmth radiating down from the sun, and my hair littered across the sand. The faint sound of waves a few skips away brush past my ear drum from one side, and a subtle breeze patters on the other. The trees overhead shake to make difference shapes as I stare at the blue sky sneaking between each leaf.
As the little limbs dance, what looks to be a tiny fly flutters from far above my face, closing the distance between me and itself, almost intentionally. My “superpower” is activated; time begins to slow and I accept my fate, that if I die in this moment, it will be with a fly on my face. As I begin to come to terms with my reality, my conscious kicks in and I realize that the fly is just floating there, suspended in time with me. Perplexed, I tilt my head ever so slightly, only to see the fly do the same.
"Ok," I think to myself. I lean up so my elbows bury their selves deep in the ground, and the sand attempts to escape my hair, but alas, it fails. As my eyes come into focus, the fly is not a fly, but a tiny dragon, that is staring back at me. Before my conscious kicks in again, a simple thought floats through my mind, "wow, a lot smaller than I thought they were." My mind comes to and I realize, "WAIT! Is this a dragon? What now?”
Its gaze transfixed on my eyes as we lithely look at each other. As the tiny dragon slowly descends to my eye level, I do one more mental check-in to be sure that I'm not hallucinating. “I mean, I did take an edible the day before, but why would it be kicking in right now, like some sort or delayed backlash being bounced back from my brain.” The dragon continues to descend, eventually landing on my chest. The super crop white tee sitting over my bikini top seems like a field of snow being beamed down on by the sun barely shielding any skin. The dragon walks in a circle, kneading like a cat before lying down.
"Aaahh, hello?!" I say out loud, both confused and not expecting a response.
The tiny dragon looks up at me and responds almost immediately, "Yes? What do you need? I’m trying to relax."
I jump up, almost knocking the dragon off of my chest. "Wait, you can talk?"
"Woah, relax chick, before I fall off!" The dragon speaks to me as if I'm the thing that doesn't belong in this situation. "Just chill, I'll explain everything." I sit anxiously waiting for a response. "For starters my name is Jerry."
"Jerry?!", I snicker quietly to myself.
“This might be the most underwhelming name for my first encounter with a dragon.” My internal dialogue runs away. “A fictional entity known to ravish land and bring ruin to all those it encounters; that this thing is that thing, and it is currently occupying my reality, manifesting itself from seemingly nothing, and it tells me it's name is Jerry?"
"Now I know what you're thinking, 'Jerry'? I look more like a Dave-," Jerry says to me in a matter-of-fact way.
"I'm sorry, Ima have to have to cut you off real quick," with my giant finger covering its whole face where a lip should be.
I think to myself, "I haven't exactly spent a lot of time educating myself on the mundane culture of dragon onomastics, but don’t dragons usually have more anomalous or culturally unique naming conventions?"
"See, that! That right there!"
“Why is Jerry pointing at me in a way that makes me feel like its not a dragon . . . but almost like, maybe one of my friends condemning me for the twelfth time about dating yet another dumb guy . . .”
My consciousness comes-to again. "Wait, I'm getting unfocused. What are you doing here?”
"That right there is why I'm here." Jerry takes a beat and looks at me expecting me to figure it out. “Ok, guess I need to explain it to you then. “Think of me as a companion, or maybe a reward I guess. Something for becoming a master of the 4th level metacog mindset. You, miss, have achieved a mental state of awareness that the vast majority of humans alive today, will never get to."
I sit, perplexed in thought staring at the sky, “I’m still considering the possibility that maybe I hit my head, or possibly I’m dead and this is what the afterlife is like. I’m only just now realizing that Jerry can hear my thoughts.” As I look down to re-engage with the tiny dragon, Jerry is already smiling and nodding their head in agreement with my realization.
I yell, "wait, so you're in my head?!" I notice the nearby creep noticing me.
"Well, yes and no," Jerry flies up and grabs my face, "I come from another dimension, but only you can see me-"
"Wait, like, did I manifest you? Are you mine?" I sit, intently waiting for a response.
Jerry, for the first time looks confused. "Hmm, well,” him now backing away from my face deep in his own though, “I wouldn't say you created me, but I wouldn't say I'm not yours either. Think of me as a manifestation of your consciousness and imagination working together, giving form to thought, only, I'm 'invited' here by you, rather than you being the one that created me."
"Ok, I'm not dumb", I think to myself.
"No, you're not" Jerry replies to me, now picking his teeth. "You know how if you wanted to paint a picture of a flower, you first see the image in your head, or the word, or the concept? Then you grab the supplies and begin painting. After you're done, your painting looks similar to what you saw in your mind, but not exactly the same. I am the sum total of the conscious difference between your thoughts and reality, but I come from a place 'before' thought. Almost like how cell phone service and internet comes before you send a text message to someone and they read it, or you searching for a video to watch and watching it. Not completely separated, just not directly connected."
"So then you're like made from brain waves?" I say as I'm still trying to fully grasp it.
Jerry replies simply with, "if that makes it easier to understand, than yes." He shrugs.
Feeling so close to understanding, I look at him intently and ask, "so then, why are you a dragon? And also, why do you sound like Mark Walberg?"
Jerry snickers. "Well, I take the form of whatever would cause you to, both, be the most curious, and, something that wouldn't freak you out."
"Hmm, yea, no definitely still freaked out a bit," I say instinctively.
"Aaahaa, see, but you're not freaking out. Maybe just a subtle shock, but the other people at this beach would have noticed if you were 'freaking out'." Jerry's point hits with both logic and certainty.
I take a long breath, then I look around me at all the people sitting in the sand, all the children making castles and burying their siblings in the ground. I think, “Nobody is looking at me, well except for the 40 year old creep 30 feet from me. He thinks I can't tell since he is wearing sun glasses, but I can tell when someone is staring.”
My consciousness comes to again, and I look back at Jerry. "So then, what now?" I say to him.
Jerry floats back down to my shirt and begins to knead on my bikini again before wrapping up into a circle and laying down. "We're at the beach, so we relax"
I slowly lean back, still a little confused, my long silky hair falling back into the sand, but with my heart at ease. I look back up at the sky; the blue background blinding me between the tight trees and twigs. "Wait, one more question, how many level four meta-cogs are there in the world?"
Jerry, now closing his eyes says, "1074, and apparently you all ask that exact same question”
“If I'm honest with myself, it feels kinda good to be so unique. I hope this doesn't go to my head. I don't want to be seen as arrogant" My mind racing again while Jerry snickers.
"Hey, get out of my head you little creep," I say jokingly.
"Oh I can tell we are going to have a great time together," Jerry says just under his breath. We both lay there laughing to ourselves. No one around noticing a thing, no one except for the creepy 40 year old guy 30 feet away from me.