Mark Chambers Screams

Mark Chambers Screams!

Ted Gentle

            I stand on the bleachers, naked.  Years of work, essays and tests, burn before my feet after hours staring at a computer monitor and searching through a library.  They are around me in a circle, gold neck bands and capes covering them like Dracula or Darth Vader.  I stand in the center, dark myself, a mystery in a world very sharply defined by reality.  They chant the names, one at a time, as the same-sounding named people walk across the courtyard to obtain their degrees on paper.  My hair is black, uncombed, and stabs the clear blue sky.  Rain begins to fall.  Blond and red hair interact with the mist and the rain.  The President or someone who works for him says some words.

            What a hard day!  I look into the blue sky, the sun bright and centered in the distance.  I try hard to remember the past and devalue the present, thinking repeatedly of the lessons learned in better times.  Cars and buses rumble in the background.  White and gray birds fly overhead.  The crowd cheers.

            I always knew I was Mark Chambers!