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Jan. 1st, 2019
Clearly
It didn’t always work from across the room. A lot of people were really guarded and Leigh would practically have to be touching them to pick up an impression at all.
It never got easier. Seeing herself through someone else’s eyes was like being pulled in two directions at once and she’d avoid it when she could. Looking at the old lady across the aisle on the commuter train and seeing her seeing herself smile was like that effect of facing one mirror towards another. Even more than that it was strange and often disconcerting to see her own features distorted in another’s minds-eye. It proved perception was subjective.
She glances at the old lady again. The woman’s mind was blissfully clear and Leigh wished the woman would stop looking at her so she could sink into the tranquility of enjoying the scenery through the old woman’s enlightened senses.
Most of these relaxed minds were hard to sync with though because eventually they’d turn and smile at her, sensing without knowing, and she’d be stuck in the mirror maze feedback loop. The worst part wasn't even that she couldn't smile back without seeing herself lie but she knew whenever they knew she was hiding something. Whenever they felt suspicious of her and it changed their sense of calm.
She nearly misses her stop and is still slipping the second strap of her back pack over her shoulder as she steps onto the platform. She has to run to catch her connection, the train waiting on the platform below and she heads for the stairs by muscle memory not really watching the crowd in front of her until she collides with her.
They both almost lose their balance but grab onto each other in counter weight to the gravitational pull. It feels like the ground actually disappears when her flailing hand locks around the other woman’s wrist. She’s aware of the trains moving in opposite directions surrounding them in thunderous sound.
She is seeing a little girl with red hair hunched against a tree and crying quietly. The echoing of distant voices calling out. Searching for her.
“Clear?”
“Cleee-ar!”
It becomes the sound of her own name being whispered softly next to her ear. “Leigh, look at me,” and Leigh’s eyes snap open a sensation like vertigo ripples through her, curls her toes, when she stares into the clear blue eyes in front of her.
“Clear,” Leigh says before she can stop herself.
The red-haired, blue-eyed woman laughs and says, “Yeah that’s the name my mama gave me but I tell people it’s Clara." She shrugs and Leigh becomes very aware that they are still clutching each other.
"So, hi there,” the woman, Clear, Clara? says.
It didn’t always work from across the room. A lot of people were really guarded and Leigh would practically have to be touching them to pick up an impression at all.
It never got easier. Seeing herself through someone else’s eyes was like being pulled in two directions at once and she’d avoid it when she could. Looking at the old lady across the aisle on the commuter train and seeing her seeing herself smile was like that effect of facing one mirror towards another. Even more than that it was strange and often disconcerting to see her own features distorted in another’s minds-eye. It proved perception was subjective.
She glances at the old lady again. The woman’s mind was blissfully clear and Leigh wished the woman would stop looking at her so she could sink into the tranquility of enjoying the scenery through the old woman’s enlightened senses.
Most of these relaxed minds were hard to sync with though because eventually they’d turn and smile at her, sensing without knowing, and she’d be stuck in the mirror maze feedback loop. The worst part wasn't even that she couldn't smile back without seeing herself lie but she knew whenever they knew she was hiding something. Whenever they felt suspicious of her and it changed their sense of calm.
She nearly misses her stop and is still slipping the second strap of her back pack over her shoulder as she steps onto the platform. She has to run to catch her connection, the train waiting on the platform below and she heads for the stairs by muscle memory not really watching the crowd in front of her until she collides with her.
They both almost lose their balance but grab onto each other in counter weight to the gravitational pull. It feels like the ground actually disappears when her flailing hand locks around the other woman’s wrist. She’s aware of the trains moving in opposite directions surrounding them in thunderous sound.
She is seeing a little girl with red hair hunched against a tree and crying quietly. The echoing of distant voices calling out. Searching for her.
“Clear?”
“Cleee-ar!”
It becomes the sound of her own name being whispered softly next to her ear. “Leigh, look at me,” and Leigh’s eyes snap open a sensation like vertigo ripples through her, curls her toes, when she stares into the clear blue eyes in front of her.
“Clear,” Leigh says before she can stop herself.
The red-haired, blue-eyed woman laughs and says, “Yeah that’s the name my mama gave me but I tell people it’s Clara." She shrugs and Leigh becomes very aware that they are still clutching each other.
"So, hi there,” the woman, Clear, Clara? says.