Contributor: Beth J. Whiting
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Claire had lost her brain. She only had enough cognitive ability left to get it back. She lost her brain during an accident and her life was hard to live without it. She could barely get through the simple routines of her job and her day.
She had an investigator look into it.
Claire explained the situation, “I lost my brain in an accident. I need to get it back.”
The woman, who wore thick glasses and had her hair in a French braid said, “I understood that you had a mental illness.”
“Yes.”
“Which one?”
Claire didn’t like the way the woman stated it. She treated mental illnesses like they were ice cream flavors to choose from.
“OCD.”
“We can find you a brain. A better brain. A brain without disease or even a smarter one if you prefer.”
“No thanks. I just want mine back.”
She wouldn’t be herself without her own brain. However, at the same time Claire was getting desperate. Another brain would do. Besides, maybe it would be better to have another one to choose from. She could pick a more equipped brain and definitely one that didn’t have any disadvantages to it. At the moment though Claire was sticking with her own.
“We’ll have to search for yours then. There are a variety of places to choose from. We’ll have to show you around where the brains hang out. Then if they aren’t there we will personally look through the harder places. Usually lost brains tend to stay in the easier to find lost and founds.”
Claire hoped hers was being patient like that.
Claire was a tall skinny thing with long blonde hair and brown eyes. She was a first grade teacher of average intelligence. You definitely needed that, at least patience.
She walked into the restaurant wearing a long black skirt and white pants. The secretary was behind her wearing a gray business suit. Claire noticed that she had a twisted nose.
“This is one place where the brains meet. It’s a restaurant called The More.”
It looked like an Italian restaurant. It was painted red. There were small framed still-life paintings of fruit on the walls. Brains were all seated around eating spaghetti. They had napkins at the end of their brains.
Claire found one brain with a fork stuck in it. She asked the secretary about that one.
“That one just got a bit frustrated. Some wait so long for their owners they just go berserk.”
“Well they look like they have appetites, but none of them look like mine.”
Claire didn’t know how she knew. It was just intuition. She didn’t know what her brain looked like. However Claire was sure that she would know when she came upon her brain.
They went through the soup kitchen, through shelters to find her brain. The secretary almost gave up on Claire. But one day while walking through a dark cold alley Claire found her brain in a slimy dumpster. It was covered in ice. It looked sad and cold.
Claire took it in her arms and wrapped it in her sweater.
“I’m so glad to find you.”
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I was born in 1983 to a family of brainy eccentrics. I write stories about outcasts in unique situations. I live in Mesa, AZ.
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Claire had lost her brain. She only had enough cognitive ability left to get it back. She lost her brain during an accident and her life was hard to live without it. She could barely get through the simple routines of her job and her day.
She had an investigator look into it.
Claire explained the situation, “I lost my brain in an accident. I need to get it back.”
The woman, who wore thick glasses and had her hair in a French braid said, “I understood that you had a mental illness.”
“Yes.”
“Which one?”
Claire didn’t like the way the woman stated it. She treated mental illnesses like they were ice cream flavors to choose from.
“OCD.”
“We can find you a brain. A better brain. A brain without disease or even a smarter one if you prefer.”
“No thanks. I just want mine back.”
She wouldn’t be herself without her own brain. However, at the same time Claire was getting desperate. Another brain would do. Besides, maybe it would be better to have another one to choose from. She could pick a more equipped brain and definitely one that didn’t have any disadvantages to it. At the moment though Claire was sticking with her own.
“We’ll have to search for yours then. There are a variety of places to choose from. We’ll have to show you around where the brains hang out. Then if they aren’t there we will personally look through the harder places. Usually lost brains tend to stay in the easier to find lost and founds.”
Claire hoped hers was being patient like that.
Claire was a tall skinny thing with long blonde hair and brown eyes. She was a first grade teacher of average intelligence. You definitely needed that, at least patience.
She walked into the restaurant wearing a long black skirt and white pants. The secretary was behind her wearing a gray business suit. Claire noticed that she had a twisted nose.
“This is one place where the brains meet. It’s a restaurant called The More.”
It looked like an Italian restaurant. It was painted red. There were small framed still-life paintings of fruit on the walls. Brains were all seated around eating spaghetti. They had napkins at the end of their brains.
Claire found one brain with a fork stuck in it. She asked the secretary about that one.
“That one just got a bit frustrated. Some wait so long for their owners they just go berserk.”
“Well they look like they have appetites, but none of them look like mine.”
Claire didn’t know how she knew. It was just intuition. She didn’t know what her brain looked like. However Claire was sure that she would know when she came upon her brain.
They went through the soup kitchen, through shelters to find her brain. The secretary almost gave up on Claire. But one day while walking through a dark cold alley Claire found her brain in a slimy dumpster. It was covered in ice. It looked sad and cold.
Claire took it in her arms and wrapped it in her sweater.
“I’m so glad to find you.”
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I was born in 1983 to a family of brainy eccentrics. I write stories about outcasts in unique situations. I live in Mesa, AZ.
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Author:
Beth J. Whiting
