The Noema: Conversation #2 ("The Riddle Of Prayer")

The little boy tickled the soft sand underneath the water with his toes. They fluttered like butterflies, kicking up the sand that turned into dark colors, only to disassemble itself and sparkle the water once again after settling back into the underwater earth. He watched the shore change around his feet and he smiled.

"But when will you return, if you don't believe in dark days?" asked the eyeball.

The little boy looked up.

"I said I do believe in last days, said the boy softly. "But everyone believes in dark days."

"Even you?" asked the man in the top hat, somewhat astonished.

"I know them to exist, but I don't really partake," the little boy said with a giggle that broke his dimples.

"You're too much," said the eyeball, maybe just to himself, appearing nostalgic for a moment that was currently happening.

The eyeball remained on the shore, close to the water, but his blue legs dry. The man in the top hat stood on the wet sand, partially in the initial inch of ocean with one leg and another resting firmly on the shore. The little boy was still standing in the water.

In between the three was a vessel. Some of it looked like a rowboat and some of it looked like an upside down umbrella. Maybe how it appeared depended on where one was standing. Even the most stationary things are largely interpretation and perspective.

"And you're going to sail in that?" asked the eyeball, unimpressed though curious, giving away no hints to what he saw bobbing in the shallow water.

"Will you make it?" asked the man in the top hat, also hiding what he believed was in front of him.

"You always make it until you don't," said the little boy with a beam.

The eyeball rolled himself.

"Come on," laughed the eyeball finally.

"You don't believe that?" asked the little boy, a meandering song found in his voice.

"No," replied the eyeball assuredly, "I say you don't make it until you do."

"Ah," said the little boy, nodding, as if expecting this, and said, "Maybe that's why interpretation and perspective are so important. The world is a think tank."

"What would you know about the world?" asked the eyeball, somewhat haughtily.

"I know enough to know that I know very little," said the boy, his chin up, now turning to the man in the top hat. "And what is your mantra?"

"Well, I think we'd all like to make it," said the man in the top hat, unsure of his own answer.

"Then, perhaps it is confidence that should be the traveler's companion and not prayer," said the little boy.

"Wait, wait, wait," said the eyeball, closing himself and waving his blue arms, "let me get this straight...you don't believe in prayer?"

"Do you?" asked the little boy, his eyebrows swaying like the trees behind the eyeball.

"No, of course not, but I'm not supposed to," said the eyeball. "But shouldn't you believe in the power of prayer?"

"I know only what I can see, but I believe in many things I can't see," said the little boy. "Knowing and believing are two stars near the same moon."

"It's a riddle!" said the man in the top hat excitedly.

"It's not a riddle," said the eyeball definitely.

There swung a low silence.

"Most mantras are riddles," said the little boy with a grand smile.

The Noema: Conversation #1 ("Beyond")

The Noema
[a story in endless acts of]
the little boy, the man in the top hat and the eyeball.
by jake kilroy.

"I don't get it. Where are you going?" asked the eyeball.

"Beyond," replied the little boy.

"Beyond what?" said the eyeball.

"Exactly," added the man in the top hat, as he understood perfectly.

The three of them stood close together, but in three variations of depth. The eyeball stood on the dry sand, the man in the top hat stood on the wet sand and the little boy stood in the shallow water.

There was a drab green ceiling seemingly miles above them, looming. The eyeball thought they should install a chandelier or something. The man in the top hat thought they should've built a skyline somewhere. And the little boy thought everything was fine just the way it was.

On several/some/many occasions, the eyeball and the man in the top hat agreed and swapped opinions. They bartered a few like medieval road peddlers. But the little boy always saw things in brighter colors and cooler air, and his demeanor often brought sunshine with it, which is traditionally unagreeable.

"You know, you don't have to be so empty," announced the eyeball, turning towards the man in the top hat.

"Me?" the man in the top hat said sharply, surprised and indignant. "Have you seen yourself?"

"Wow," cracked the eyeball, rolling himself. "The irony in that is thicker than your skull."

The little boy watched the other two quietly.

"When I go, there will be no friendship," the little boy said finally.

"Ok, ok, ok," started the eyeball, "we'll be better. But where are you going?"

"I told you," said the little boy.

"Truly, though, we understand that you mean to sail beyond, but...what is beyond?" cooed the man in the top hat.

"There is only the beyond once you have reached beyond," said the little boy, his eyes dancing a gleam, kicking it around like a soccer ball.

"Listen, there's nothing new beyond," reasoned the eyeball. "There's only this. There is only these drab colors, this black blue, this brown green, this tan yellow. The land is rotting. Don't you see? This entire world is in flames without the magnificence of fire. If you sail, you will only reach darker colors. This eternity is closing in without movement. I don't see why you can't spend your last days with us."

"Because I don't believe in last days and I will be seeing you soon," said the little boy.