Stranger than Fiction

This morning, on my way to do ‘the mail run’ before work, I almost hit a bird in the road. The thing that was odd about this was not that it was an animal in the wrong place at the wrong time, or that it was me in the wrong place at the wrong time.

The weird thing was the location: East Hartford Ave. Uxbridge, MA

Matched with the type of bird: peacock.

I knew it was the beginning to another odd day. I knew this not because I am a reader of omens and portents. I knew this because life has become an interesting and unexpected thing.

By now I should expect the unexpected. I have a job where just when you think there is some sort of routine, something new and different that you’ve never seen comes across your plate and stares at you with beady little eyes. Add this to the rest of my life. I have weird, vivid, often horrifying dreams. Coincidences and dejavu are constant. Is it more strange to feel like whats happening has happened before, or that both Ezra and I met after not seeing each other since February (and years before that meeting) both wearing Metallica shirts and admitting we weren’t ‘really big Metallica fans or anything’.

I wonder about writing fiction sometimes and the length people go to make it seem realistic. With the odd occurrences that happen on a day to day it occurs to me that we wouldn’t know what realism was anyways. Reality often feels surreal, and truth really is stranger than fiction.

Last night I dreamt about telling someone at work that I just had a dream about them, since in the dream I dreamt having that dream.

I also dreamt I was a super-long pole arm bearer for some feudal post-apocalyptic oriental army. I was captured by the enemy feudal lord when he tricked me into thinking I was close to defeating him. It was simply a ruse to get me away from the rest of the army and capture me. When I tried to escape, no matter how far and fast I went, there was a large-as-a-house warrior waiting to bring me back to my prison. There was nothing to do at this prison but sleep and play strange card games I was bad at.

I can only spend so much time on the epic stores my subconscious undertakes. Life is constantly weaving a strange tale of its own. Instead, I spend my time dodging peacocks.

  • Escape from a local zoo? Someone’s pet?

    Maybe peacocks are like pet alligators, they get too big, people flush them down the toilet and they end up in all kinds of crazy places?

  • Toilet? Didn’t even consider that… That’s got to be it. Thanks, man. Mystery solved.

  • VicAndSpike

    Peacocks good eating even if they’re roadkill.

  • My spam filter has never tried to eat any comments ‘cept yours, Andrew. Why is that? I just fished your last one there from the filter.

    Anyways, I’m seriously wondering if this is the same peacock. I mean, how many of them can there be casually wandering around roadways at the same time?

    I’m glad peacock is living his dream, hitchhiking through the US. I’m a little jealous.

    I bet peacocks taste like chicken.

    I wonder how good my search result for peacock is now. That’s just the sort of thing I think about and take pride in. How high can my page rank for silly, untypical phrases and words? We were scoring high for ‘white socks’ on Google for awhile. Peacock would be a nice addition. :)