Binary Hallucination

My mom’s birthday was a few days ago and I went to dinner with my parents. As I was sitting at the table, across from my aging progenitors, all of a sudden I saw myself sitting on the trunk of a car on the side of the road with the parts under the hood smoking. A dust storm swirled around me and crossed the deserted road. I waited for something, anything, to come along. There was no water. I sat sweating and wishing I had planned better. After a while, I began to see things: animals, pools of water in the distance, people that didn’t respond to the sound of my voice. Their visages seemed friendly but when I extended my hand, they disappeared.

Isolation is a strange drug; whether in a crowded room or trapped in a desert squall, you begin to question your reality. Your brain begins inventing. Maybe you see more clearly? Perhaps it is all a dream? Who is to say?

There was recently a real illusion, one veiled by ones and zeros. I perceived closeness with something that was not really there. I shouted to the mirage that slid past me and slipped into the distance, just to raise its awareness. There was no response, just a continual steady gait away from me. Then I screamed at it. Nothing. I began to throw things to attract attention but to no avail. The image crossed the horizon and was gone. I sobbed, feeling more discouraged and alone than when I had the company of an apparition, even for a fleeting moment.

The hallucination was more comforting than the truth. Now there is nothing.