Rogues Bard - Prose - In Memory of Dead Teachers

IN MEMORY OF DEAD TEACHERS

My name is Rod Just or as the teachers used to refer to me Just .. Rodney.

Some scientists think that time doesn’t only travel forward, but it can also travel backwards, it can ebb and flow, just like the tide .. ebb and flow, backwards and forwards .. ebb and flow. Consider the implications of that ....

When I was a child and the world was black and white we would buy invisible ink. I suppose you still can. We wrote something on the back of a page and it disappeared, and then if we had the right formulae and treated the paper in the correct manner it re-appeared. This is my past. The problem is I can’t always remember the correct formulae and sometimes when I do, I end up wishing I hadn’t bothered. Sometimes it’s too painful.

The future is the same. On certain days and in certain conditions it’s crystal clear but at the moment I cant remember it .. the future I mean .. I know that I’ve been there and sometimes it’s happy, and sometimes it’s sad . But I cant’ figure out what makes the difference. Perhaps what I am about to write now impacted on “The Future” perhaps not. Perhaps they are wrong. Perhaps there is no “Future” perhaps I always wrote these exact words on the table outside The Sloop Inn in St Ives, perhaps I was never really there.

Perhaps if you put fifty billion monkeys in front of fifty billion typewriters for fifty billion years they might write this story. The question is. Will I ?

Question. 1
If a writer goes insane in the middle of a forest, and there’s no-one to hear him scream, has he still gone insane ?

Question 2
If a man gets knocked down in the road by an ambulance is he to be considered lucky or unlucky ?

Question 3
If time ebbs and flows like the tide how do you separate fact from fiction ?

What is “The Truth” ? That’s what The Detective wants to know.

“ If I never go to sleep at night morning will never come“.
That was my belief when I was six years old or perhaps I should say it was my hope.

“If I sleep long enough perhaps I will never wake up“.
That was my hope thirty years later, or perhaps it was my belief.

But things change and a lot has happened since. I can remember contemplating suicide when I was thirteen, but that’s not unusual amongst pubescent youths and the Doctor was right. By the time I was fourteen the acne had gone.

Much of the rest is hazy, sometimes the mist clears and I can glimpse “The Future” I can see the one in front of me ..and I know there’s one behind me, but it’s a bit like the Pantomime character. I know it’s there but when I turn round It’s gone. When I look back there’s just Fog.

Perhaps it’s the same for everyone, or perhaps my fog is thicker than most. I can only speak for myself. I can remember moments of startling clarity that dumbfounded my peers, confused me .. and startled my teachers, who always seemed undecided as to whether to bang their heads against the wall. Or mine. They usually settled for the latter but that’s another story. The one The Detective is interested in.

I had a mutual understanding with teachers. They pissed me off, and I pissed them off. Especially Harper. But I was only a child. And it was their job to be pissed off. Perhaps they were just scared .. I suppose I was a scary kid. Now I’m just a scared adult. But if I did kill Harper so what ? We all know that it all ends in Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing and more Nothing. For now and all eternity.

Some scientists think that time doesn’t only travel forward, but it can also travel backwards, it can ebb and flow, just like the tide .. ebb and flow, backwards and forwards .. ebb and flow . Consider the implications of that ..