what has happened to my brain is this: it has reached absolute zero, the molecules have stopped moving. i have reached a state that has thus far only been theoretically possible; i should get a nobel prize for this, for being brain dead. in northern maine in the winter it is so cold that a lake a mile wide freezes over 2 feet deep and one can build a cabin on it and cut a hole and go ice fishing. that, perhaps, has happened to my brain. lilliputians are fishing for bounty, for dinner, for pensées of any stripe, but they will go home to their tiny abodes empty-handed, wondering where all the thoughts have gone.
‘no, none of her usual run-on sentences, not even a prepositional phrase’
‘no adverbs, even? she’s usually good for some of those, even late in the day’
‘no, not even a lingering, repetitive song refrain; we shall starve’
my frozen brain has detached from the rest of my body, like a helium balloon that has slipped the grasp of its owner, and is floating away, utterly carefree. i try to wave it back, gesturing for it to come down to earth. my brain, nonchalant, ignores me. unfettered now, and thawing, it jauntily revels in wild, preposterous, illogical, circular, elliptical, insinuating thoughts. ‘damned grey matter’, my reptilian brain stem manages to mutter, but a lingering lilliputian hears it and snags it, triumphantly, for dinner.