Roy thought of himself as a deep thinker. His thoughts trekked across the great expanse of the cosmos, through the intricate highways of parallel dimensions, around the big head of God, and back again. They were sometimes a bit confusing, and suffocating, because they came at him so quickly and randomly, but he loved the pure seismic energy of thought.

He didn't think of himself as the smartest being on earth, but he strove to achieve this lofty goal. And if he didn't achieve it, so what. Didn't a great man once say, "The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step."? He wasn't sure if that was the true quote or something like it. He couldn't quite remember if he read it, heard it in a movie, or met the man who said it. All he really knew was that he liked thinking and the human nature of thought.

The things he thought about were about as random as a fluttering butterfly. He could be easily sidetracked with one thought by another, but he would eventually find his way again, with a moderate amount of concentration.

Today he thought 696,024 thoughts, and this is a fact because he always counted his thoughts. When he thought back on these thoughts, they were like old faded pictures. Obscured, cracked, and black and white. Almost useless, but thoughts none the less. There were two thoughts today that stayed vivid and alive. They were better than Technicolor. They were Lucas Film.

The first was a hitchhiker he picked up on highway 24 going into Topeka. He was a normal looking fellow that you would find hitchhiking the highways and byways of America. Shaggy beard, slightly torn and outdated cloths, with the fine familiar smell of road funk that's been simmering in unwashed pits and ass for days on end.

“Hello, need a ride?" Roy asked after pulling over and rolling down the window.

"Yeah man, I sure do. Thanks."

They drove through Topeka heading east on highway 24 with a uncomforting silence that made them both think of thoughts of dread, survival and fear. Roy thought that he might have met his even change. This man was a thinker too. When he took his eyes off the road and onto this vagabond, the hitchhiker's eyes were upon him. He thought about this, and he surmised that he's seen these eyes before. As the road laid out before them, Roy thought about the man sitting beside him. He thought about his eyes. Killer eyes. Was this man a killer? He wasn't quite sure, but as they drove, and looked at each other with the knowing, the thought of familiarity, he was quite sure that this was no ordinary man.

"So, what's your name?" Roy asked to try and ease the tension.

"Roy." The hitchhiker answered.

Roy was stunned silent. How could this man have the same name as his? It could be a coincidence, but as he has learned through the years, coincidences are as rare as lightning bolts hitting your forehead. They happen, but not often.

"Dude I gotta piss. Can you pull over?" Roy asked Roy with a seriousness of a man who has to piss.

"Yeah... sure." Roy answered Roy with the uneasiness of a man who is scared enough to piss his pants.

Roy turned right on a gravel road, in the middle of nowhere. His occupant opened the door and said "Don't leave me out here man." got out and started to piss. Roy thought about everything that led up to him picking up this man. His thoughts were running wild because he couldn't think of why he would pick up a total stranger, because he was too busy thinking of things he couldn't remember. This really bothered him because now he was about to lose count of his thoughts that he thought of that day. He started to shake and sweat. He raised his hand to wipe the sweat off his face, when Roy got back in the car with a nine inch serrated Bowie knife. And then Roy really began to shake.

Roy shook so hard and violently that he lost his train of thought. All the thoughts he thought that day tore away along with his human form. He didn't like his true form because there was only rampage and chaos. No reasoning. No thought.

"Jesus Christ!!!!" Roy said as Roy's talon's reached for his knife and his throat. Roy firmly gripped Roy's throat with his right talon, and his knife with his left. He grabbed the knife by the blade, reared back, and jammed the handle into Roy's eye. And when Roy's blood projected itself onto Roy's demonic face, he started to get his thought back, along with his human form.

He changed back into Roy. Or was he always Roy? Was he Roy the killer, or Roy the demon? Every time he killed, he'd have the thoughts of the life he took, so it was hard to tell. He could have been a Roy that killed a lifetime ago, or he could have thought he was the killer because he picked up a killer named Roy. It was confusing, but Roy was a deep thinker. He thought about all of this on his drive, and he also thought about his second vivid memory.

When the victim Roy screamed "Jesus Christ", the demon Roy thought about him. He remembered a time of frustration and confusion. He remembered when Jesus asked him his name, and he answered "Legion". He wasn't thinking too much back then. It was impossible. He wasn't many in one, he is one who is many. It took time to figure that out, but he did. He just had to give it some thought.

"Fleeting Thoughts"
Copyright: © 2011 Joseph W. Patterson

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