Seeds and Balloons--a neurodivergent story

 All Us Seeds

 

I bought this little bag of flax seeds.

I don’t know why.

Okay, I do know why.

The seeds are tan, and tear shaped. They look like tomato seeds, only not that slimy. They are dry and smooth. When I feel like it, I pinch a helping out of the bag and sift them into my mouth. I crunch all at once, though a few escape to a dip beneath my tongue. At first, they have a waxy taste and texture then as my saliva surrounds them, they turn soft and become coated with a thick goo. I play a mouth game where I search for leftovers and draw each one to my front teeth to be split open. I think I do this because I am lonely. 

Today I went to the library. It was lonely there too. I was looking for books to read, which is the only reason to go, unless you’re looking for a friend. But I wouldn’t recommend the library as a good place to find a friend, because people are quiet there. The more the silent a person is, the more secrets they have. I should know. I am quiet. I did not find a friend at the library today. Only books. Which is why I went.

I guess a good place to find a friend is at a bar. Everyone there is looking for someone, or something. Maybe they should try flax seeds. I can picture us sitting at little round tables, some drinking, some not drinking, holding little bags and pouring the seeds into our open mouths. Crunch, crunch, crunch. And then search, search, search. All night, all of us crunching and searching.

Do you remember when you were a kid, and someone invited you to a birthday party? There was cake and punch and little napkins, and balloons. The mom would explain that you had to pop a balloon until you found a note inside. That meant winning a prize. Some kid holds up a piece of paper while the rest of us sit among latex shrapnel. The prize was always some little plastic thing you could buy in a candy machine.

You know what a kid really wants? A balloon.

I’ll tell you where I bought the seeds: a health store in town, right next to the pet store. I hate going there because there are dogs in cages with sad faces pressed against the wire mesh. Maybe that’s why I bought the seeds, because I saw them and cried. It made me feel so lonely. Cage-to-cage. All those stores and all of us, elbow-to-elbow. That's how I felt. Alone. I’d adopt one, but my mom said I'm allergic. Anyway, the apartment owner says the walls are too thin.

One day I’ll reach into the cabinet and find the seeds are gone. Then I’ll have to buy more. Then I’ll see the puppies and remember how lonely I am. And then I’ll end up at the library, or maybe the bar. If they put balloons in bars, everyone would have a much better time.

Or maybe I’ll go nowhere at all.