Double drabble.
Blink Once
Maybe it's the incertitude that's the worst. Didn't he put the scissors down there just a minute ago? Didn't he carefully close the glue after using it? Did he remember to turn the key when he left the house? Small things that happen to everyone, and maybe you put the scissors away already, maybe you forgot to close the glue, maybe you locked your door when leaving, but – but maybe there was a moment, a minute, a few seconds of sudden death during which his hands, his fingers, his feet continued to move, to change the world around him in small subtle ways.
Is it so absurd then, to imagine that the same might be happening to his mind? Wasn't there a memory attached to this old doll, isn't there an appointment today missing from his memory, didn't he use to know what's the capital of Hungary? There are leaks in his mind born of the ring's magic, and maybe worse than the incertitude is the fear: if he lays down this game piece, won't it be gone if you blink? If you listen to a song, if you spend an afternoon, won't they have vanished from your mind tomorrow?
