Jerry

Part of Flash Fiction February 2023, prompt was “Vague lights and geometrical figures seen when eyes are closed”.

“Woah, dude, that’s amazing!” I shouted, the scene of serenity I was experiencing isolating me from the outside world so much that I forgot Jerry was just in front of me.

With my eyes closed, my typically busy brain was at peace. The colourful shapes danced in front of my eyes in a playful manner. The lights pulsed on and off, flashing at indiscernible distances from behind the shapes. They intertwined together, creating connections I could only hope to one day understand. I saw patterns, insights, and answers to questions I had sought my entire life. They were all there right in front of me at that precise and pristine moment. Total bliss. Total zen.

Then I felt a slimy sensation on my forehead that rudely shook me out of nirvana. The experience filled me with so much joy I lost track of time and was rudely awakened by the sensation of Jerry stuck to my forehead.

“Take me down.” Squelched Jerry, and my eyes flicked up to my forehead to see his small black form just out of view.

I raised my arm, still a bit shaky after my experience.

“Careful…” He said as I plucked his soft form from my forehead and placed him down on a bed of soft leaves he called his office.

“How long was I under?” I asked, scratching Jerry’s last resting place and checking my watch.

“The usual session length. 20 minutes.” Said Jerry gruffly, ringing up a receipt on his tiny computer that led to a comically oversized printer compared to his stature.

“Ah, right, of course.” I said, “It felt longer.”

Jerry shrugged. Or at least, the upper part of his little mottled body made a small shudder that I interpreted as a shrug. It looked like a shrug.

“I need more of that, Jerry. I have been so stressed at work. And those visions you put inside my head… I am buzzing for days!”

He pulled out a small notebook and flipped through the pages with his tentacles. He was extremely detached and business-like for a creature that made me feel so good. Ah well.

“Can fit you in on Friday.” He said, “Double session?”

“That would be great, Jerry,” I said, handing over the money for our appointment and gathering myself to leave.

I re-entered normality reluctantly, the noise and business of the street shocking me with its intensity. I was so out of it I wasn’t looking where I was going and bumped into someone walking in the other direction. They looked up at the name of the shop.

“Jerry Kolynski, Psychic slug and therapist.”

They furrowed their brow with concern and looked at me harshly. “Eww, who’d want a slug on their body? That’s gross.” They threw their chewing gum on the floor and stomped on their way.

Some people have such a limited worldview. That’s why I see Jerry. He broadens my horizons.