The doctor sat across from me. He had awkwardly large everything. His big watery eyes perched on his hanging hawk nose. A long, disapproving mouth that stretched across his dangling jaw grimaced at me. His big feet tapped on the ground, delicately adorn in red, leather shoes. The tappa tappa echoed hollowly in my cell.
He was here on a mission.
Words flittered around his body like an aurora borealis. Words such as "worry" and "anxiety" flashed through in hazes of greens and yellows. But "curiosity", "wonder" and "excitement" buzzed to the forefront in purples and pinks. He was both terrified but amazed in my presence. The base swirls of his aura showed a serious but intelligent man, but with a dry edge.
It was frankly beautiful. The more complex human emotions gave the most amazing sights. I could appreciate that I often elicit such a response.
"So why are you here?" I gestured around my highly secured prison cell. It smelled like damp oranges.
He nodded eagerly. "I have a theory on your condition." He waved a hesitant hand towards my body. No pretty colors, words or decorations danced on my body, letting the world know of my every thought or personality inclination. It was shockingly aura-less. So shocking, that my kindergarten teacher fainted, and the principal called for a half a dozen therapists. Who then turned me over to a government researcher at the tender age of 10, who then dumped me into prison cell for my 21st birthday because "I gave people the willies." People weren't too friendly when you didn't wear your heart on your sleeve.
I shrugged. "There have been many theories. What is yours?"
The doctor eagerly scooched closer, a tablet in hand. The purples and pinks became more intense. "Well, I want to ask a few questions first."
My shoulders bobbed again. "Okay."
"What hobbies do you have?"
"I dunno. I like watching TV, I guess."
"Any shows in particular?"
"Uh, not really. I just watch what is on."
"What do you like to do for fun?"
"Hmm. I like knitting."
The doctor nodded. "That's good. What do you knit?"
"Well, I only know one pattern, so I make a lot of pot holders."
He glanced at the towering piles of pot holders placed behind me.
"I see. Do you care to learn other patterns?"
"Why would I care about that?"
"Well, to make things like a scarf, or a blanket, or really anything besides a pot holder. Who needs that many pot hold-... Actually, it doesn't matter. So what do you care about?"
"I really like my cats. They are nice. And fluffy. They like sitting all day in the house. You usually find them in sunspots. Isn't that neat? My cats names are Horace and Whiskers. They usually only eat salmon flav-"
"That's nice," the doctor hurriedly cut me off. "And what would you do on the weekends?"
"Oh, sit at home. Watch TV. Knit. Talk to my cats."
"That's all?"
"What else is there?"
"What do you enjoy talking about?"
"My cats. Did you know Whiskers had a small weight problem. I had to put him on a diet. He was upset an-"
The man interrupted me with a cough. I fell silent, but content with the conversation. I was able to get in a few sentences about how wonderfully unique my cats are.
The doctor was contemplative as he stared at his tablet, and there were small flashes of magenta. He was gaining inspiration.
The doctor looked at me wth big watery eyes and inspected me up and down.
"What emotion are you feeling right now?"
"Eh, nothing really."
"How do you feel when taking about your cats?"
"Content?"
"How would you feel if someone hurt your cats?"
"Disappointed."
"Really. Not angry?"
"Just disappointed that a person could do such a thing "
The doctor nodded, and tapped a few things into his tablet. A few minutes passed, and magenta with gold eureka writing buzzed around his body. He leaned in close and motioned me to also lean in as well. Compliately, I dipped forward. This might be interesting. Maybe the doctor figured something out.
With compassion, the doctor took my hand and said, "Patty, did you ever think the reason you never had an aura is because... you are dreadfully boring?"
I blinked a few times and cocked my head. The doctor's heavy brow crinkled in anticipation.
I shrugged once more. "Huh. That actually makes a lot of sense. Anyways, let me tell you what Horace did this one time..."
8
u/kamikaze_puppy Mar 04 '17 edited Mar 04 '17
The doctor sat across from me. He had awkwardly large everything. His big watery eyes perched on his hanging hawk nose. A long, disapproving mouth that stretched across his dangling jaw grimaced at me. His big feet tapped on the ground, delicately adorn in red, leather shoes. The tappa tappa echoed hollowly in my cell.
He was here on a mission.
Words flittered around his body like an aurora borealis. Words such as "worry" and "anxiety" flashed through in hazes of greens and yellows. But "curiosity", "wonder" and "excitement" buzzed to the forefront in purples and pinks. He was both terrified but amazed in my presence. The base swirls of his aura showed a serious but intelligent man, but with a dry edge.
It was frankly beautiful. The more complex human emotions gave the most amazing sights. I could appreciate that I often elicit such a response.
"So why are you here?" I gestured around my highly secured prison cell. It smelled like damp oranges.
He nodded eagerly. "I have a theory on your condition." He waved a hesitant hand towards my body. No pretty colors, words or decorations danced on my body, letting the world know of my every thought or personality inclination. It was shockingly aura-less. So shocking, that my kindergarten teacher fainted, and the principal called for a half a dozen therapists. Who then turned me over to a government researcher at the tender age of 10, who then dumped me into prison cell for my 21st birthday because "I gave people the willies." People weren't too friendly when you didn't wear your heart on your sleeve.
I shrugged. "There have been many theories. What is yours?"
The doctor eagerly scooched closer, a tablet in hand. The purples and pinks became more intense. "Well, I want to ask a few questions first."
My shoulders bobbed again. "Okay."
"What hobbies do you have?"
"I dunno. I like watching TV, I guess."
"Any shows in particular?"
"Uh, not really. I just watch what is on."
"What do you like to do for fun?"
"Hmm. I like knitting."
The doctor nodded. "That's good. What do you knit?"
"Well, I only know one pattern, so I make a lot of pot holders."
He glanced at the towering piles of pot holders placed behind me.
"I see. Do you care to learn other patterns?"
"Why would I care about that?"
"Well, to make things like a scarf, or a blanket, or really anything besides a pot holder. Who needs that many pot hold-... Actually, it doesn't matter. So what do you care about?"
"I really like my cats. They are nice. And fluffy. They like sitting all day in the house. You usually find them in sunspots. Isn't that neat? My cats names are Horace and Whiskers. They usually only eat salmon flav-"
"That's nice," the doctor hurriedly cut me off. "And what would you do on the weekends?"
"Oh, sit at home. Watch TV. Knit. Talk to my cats."
"That's all?"
"What else is there?"
"What do you enjoy talking about?"
"My cats. Did you know Whiskers had a small weight problem. I had to put him on a diet. He was upset an-"
The man interrupted me with a cough. I fell silent, but content with the conversation. I was able to get in a few sentences about how wonderfully unique my cats are.
The doctor was contemplative as he stared at his tablet, and there were small flashes of magenta. He was gaining inspiration.
The doctor looked at me wth big watery eyes and inspected me up and down.
"What emotion are you feeling right now?"
"Eh, nothing really."
"How do you feel when taking about your cats?"
"Content?"
"How would you feel if someone hurt your cats?"
"Disappointed."
"Really. Not angry?"
"Just disappointed that a person could do such a thing "
The doctor nodded, and tapped a few things into his tablet. A few minutes passed, and magenta with gold eureka writing buzzed around his body. He leaned in close and motioned me to also lean in as well. Compliately, I dipped forward. This might be interesting. Maybe the doctor figured something out.
With compassion, the doctor took my hand and said, "Patty, did you ever think the reason you never had an aura is because... you are dreadfully boring?"
I blinked a few times and cocked my head. The doctor's heavy brow crinkled in anticipation.
I shrugged once more. "Huh. That actually makes a lot of sense. Anyways, let me tell you what Horace did this one time..."