The New Name
By: Rick Serrano
Much like death, sleeping is a waking up of old memories that refuse to die. Jacob Stan knew this to be a complex look at sleeping, that which happens when one takes to a shutting of eyes that kills off another day. His son had already started screaming from the hole he was buried in, right next to the tool shed. The dirt was still loose. There was nothing left to think about other than the new predicament. Jacob felt a tinge of inappropriateness saying "people had come back to life" or that we now lived amongst "the undead". He had seen the movies and read the books. And yet, he struggled with it, with making it all make sense on a more original level. His pain--his loss--demanded another way of coming to terms with the thing that made his son stay not dead. In a sense, it was like coming up with a name for a newborn. But the name was not to come with the excitement of watching something, someone, grow up. The new name, instead, would come with watching his son go against nature, to what many would consider a most sinister and insidious path. Perhaps it meant that the moment for new names had passed. Perhaps, Jacob thought as he watched his son coming up from the ground, names were the only thing that stayed dead.
No comments:
Post a Comment