The Peculiar Incident That Led to the End of Rememorandom

It is with a somewhat heavy heart that I’ve “decided” to end my blogging adventure.  I definitely didn’t see it coming, else I wouldn’t have spent the time to change my themes and stuff around.  I also wouldn’t have castigated you all with pointless posts and idiosyncrasies, nor would I have left a story unfinished.  No, if it were my choice (which it is), I would keep on blogging away, merrily and oblivious.  If only I hadn’t tried to pick up that nickel.

You see, it all started with a standard 1986 nickel.  I was born in 1986.  The Challenger disintegrated thirteen days after my birth-day.  Giant hailstones killed 92 people in Bangladesh eighty-nine days after my birth-day.  A Picasso painting, Weeping Woman, was stolen two hundred and two days after I was born, but was found again two weeks later.  There were plenty of things to happen during that year, chiefly my being born was of high significance for me.  So, naturally, I try to keep every 1986 nickel I ever happen across.  Odd, perhaps.  OCD, definitely.  But what can I say?  We all have our quirks.

As I was walking toward the train station, to catch a ride to Chicago, I spied the small glint of metal in the early morning light of yesterday.  I thought to myself, “Lo!  A nickel!”  I stooped to retrieve it when a shrill hiss filled the air.  A rough and ragged feline leapt from a nearby perch and attached itself to my reaching hand.  Its claws dug into my soft skin; its teeth sunk deep into my pinkie finger.

I don’t know if it was shock or confusion that kept me from screaming out in pain.  Instead, quite the opposite happened.  My mind cleared up and I had an epiphany.  I could see the vastness of the world and its billions of people, all piled upon one another, ghosts of the past and of the present merging as one.  It was as if the Great Cogs of Earth were revealed to me and I was given an instruction manual and a toolbox.  I saw the effects of my every action on this world, exactly like George Bailey or Ebenezer Scrooge, but without the angels or ghosts.  And in my moment of cognizance, I saw Rememorandom.

Scroll after scroll was rolled out and open.  Giant, magnificent letters spread across the parchment, penned by a hand with much better penmanship than mine.  I saw the various posts of my little blog.  Each piece had lines shooting off the page, arcing out across the globe and connecting to some reader somewhere.  Some had only one line, and others had hundreds, if not thousands or millions or, dare I write it, billions.  (Some posts even connected to the moon, though I’d say you won’t believe it.)  I walked among the scrolls, a giant in the presence of the papers, but somehow a child ‘neath the shadows of their might.  I ran my hands along their rough edges.  I felt the dried ink beneath my fingers as I reread some long, forgotten words.

And when I reached the end of my journey I saw the cat.  It turned its crooked head nearly upside down and smiled.  Razor sharp teeth flashed back at me and my moment of clarity abruptly ended.

The next thing I know I’m screaming and dancing around on the sidewalk, my arms flailing around and trying desperately to get this rabid cat off.  A lady close to me screamed a high-pitched wail and put her hand to her head and passed out.  I started hitting my cat-arm against the curb but the cursed animal held on tight, purring all-the-while.  I saw dark streams of blood pouring down my arm and I started to feel lightheaded.  I tripped over the curb and fell backwards, hitting my head hard on the concrete.  Black began pouring into my vision.  Before I passed out, to my immediate right I noticed the nickel.

When I came to I was lying in a hospital room.  My arm, mummified beneath layers of gauze, burned.  Keisha was sleeping on the couch.  My lips were parched and my hand throbbed, but other than that everything seemed okay.  So I lay there and reflected on the events of the day.  I thought about my revelation and what it meant.  I thought about the poor, lonely astronauts that have only my blog to read.  I thought about my you, my blogging friends, and wondered why you take the time to read Rememorandom.  I thought about how lucky I am to be alive after being attacked by that crazy street-cat, and I wondered what happened to it.  I thought about the nickel that I didn’t get, but told myself it was okay.  I thought about how satisfied I was with my blog and decided then and there that it was time to end it.

So, again, dear and faithful readers, it is with a heavy heart that I end my blogging adventure.  The years have been great.  The interactions wonderful.  You are all beautiful people and don’t let the world tell you otherwise.  I intend on roaming across the ripe fields of America, a happy hobo, a scar-handed drifter, a modern day explorer, looking for elusive 1986 nickels and intriguing tales.  Perhaps we’ll see each other on the roads of life.  Who knows?