Reason’s Sabbatical by Amy Marques
Reason knew she would lose her mind if she didn’t take a break. Whimsey could cover for her, since Whimsey walked closest to Reality, and everyone knew how easy it was to lose sight of Reality.
Whimsey promised to pay attention, but the soft dawn light invited dreams of fairies and conversations with butterflies, so when Illusion asked if she could take a turn at the helm, Whimsey just hummed an agreement and followed the movement of the leaves in the breeze.
Illusion had been waiting for this moment for lifetimes.
She had ideas about how things should be, and this was her chance to prove her worth. When Reason was around, it was hard to get much done. Reason had a knack for pointing out inconsistencies and she was terrible at suspending disbelief. Why, Fantasy and Dreams had even sworn off socializing with Reason!
Strictly professional, Fantasy had said. Reason works well, but she can be so uncomfortable…
Illusion had studied Reason’s parsimonious and sober ways and thought she could offer much better. Illusion would be a better guide than Reason because she truly listened. She understood desires and needs and fears. She knew to bend and shape herself to provide comfort and a sense of security.
It’s not that Reason never changed her mind. She did, but only after laborious scrutiny of evidence. Illusion tired of Reason’s fixed adherence to staying the course. Especially when Reason determined that the only way was the hard way. Illusion had given up on trying to explain the joys to be had in the shortcuts.
Sometimes Reason even sided with Insanity and everyone knew how unpredictable she was. Why, Insanity was as likely to dive into the sea for a cookie as she was to show up in her birthday suit for a dinner party! Illusion could never quite understand why Reason and Insanity were such good friends. It was unnerving when they laughed at jokes that nobody else found funny. Nobody asked why they were laughing. Not anymore. You wouldn’t understand, Reason always said.
Illusion didn’t like to insist because the few times she had cajoled an answer out of Reason, she had been annoyed to find that Reason was right. Illusion couldn’t understand the joke, no matter how reasonably they explained it to her. She tried to put up a front and laugh, but they had known her for eons and her disguises, robust as they were, couldn’t withstand their pointed gaze for long.
But now she would prove herself the kindest, most understanding, most pleasant leader of all. Reason was away. Whimsey was busy with the tiny things nobody else paid mind to. Insanity had stomped off muttering that, without Reason, everyone would try to invade her domain. Fantasy and Dreams had long lived apart in the fields of Imagination, so it was Illusion’s turn to share her version of Reality. Illusion was no fool. She had seen how Reason’s straightforwardness frequently scared the world. Now, Illusion would gently seduce the world instead.
*
She gave the world everything it had ever asked for, and she knew just what it wanted for she had been preparing for ages. She had collected complaints and saved every grievance the world had voiced against Reason’s intransigence. She delivered the moon on a platter. She held up the sky. She shaped language and bent wills. She used every color in the rainbow, merging them into infinite possibilities. She redistributed rain and slowed the wind. She reveled in the unlikely and improbable and expanded the rarified until it became commonplace.
Whimsey stopped by, but couldn’t help pointing out the details that were less than convincing. Illusion tried to tell Whimsey to look at the big picture, but Whimsey was nearsighted and had always had a soft spot for the mists. So Illusion found it easy to distract her with smoke by making it whirl and twirl at the edges of mirrors.
Insanity scoffed. If you’re going to make something, at least make it your own. Be bold! Go take lessons from Fantasy or Dreams. They’re true artists. This is no more than a forgery.
Illusion ignored Insanity. Everyone knew she spoke nonsense. But doubt niggled at her. She wondered if this was one of those times when Reason would have shared a laugh with Insanity.
*
The world was happy. Or rather, people were happy so long as they stayed within their realms. But Illusion despaired of sustaining so many facets. Her edges frayed. Her images blurred. Her strength waned. So she thickened the fogs and enveloped the world in a mist of certainty.
Fantasy alerted Illusion that the smoke had begun to crumble the borders of Imagination, but Illusion had enough to do in keeping up appearances on center stage. Besides, the bickering world was starting to aggravate her. She had reflected the world of their dreams. Why couldn’t they just enjoy it? But no… they insisted on checking out the neighbor’s view, and they rarely liked what they saw in perspectives conjured from the designs of others. So they argued over who was truest to Reality.
*
Reason returned to a whole new world. While Insanity still tried to keep people out of her hermitage, Whimsey had amassed a following. Her people were easily identified by their magnifying glasses and hand fans, which allowed them to better notice the small things and to softly blow away mists of deceptions. They had taken to joining Whimsey in her waking visits to Dreams. For her part, Fantasy would have been overwhelmed if she were any less competent, but she had always been a good hostess. Few people now acknowledged the boundaries that once separated actual from pretense, so Fantasy hosted salons where the creatives and the illusioned happily mingled.
It didn’t take long for Reason to make sense of the new world. But while she might have smashed the mirrors and explained away the fogs, the mist of certainty was dense, and Illusion had mimicked Reason’s language for so long, that it would be hard for Reason to reach the world.
In fact, Reason no longer wanted to try.
The time away had reminded Reason of how, in days gone by, she had courted Dreams and shared bread with Fantasy. She missed the hours spent cataloguing Whimsey’s collections and Insanity’s revelations.
Reason realized that while hers might be the most straightforward of Reality’s representations, Reality was wiser than all of them put together. Reality had little to prove and nothing to lose. Reason had lost much of her joy trying to talk sense to a world that needed more than just her reasonings. So she set out to meet with Illusion, hoping for a truce.
I can’t keep this up, Illusion said.
Reason wanted to laugh. She refrained, although she heard Insanity snickering in the background.
What do I do? Illusion asked. They won’t stop arguing and I’ve lost at least half of the world to Fantasy and Dreams!
Reason tried to soften her voice, but she couldn’t help the bluntness of the words. It wasn’t in her nature to do much else but state the obvious: Shatter.
You’ve lost touch with Reality! Illusion said. You sound like Insanity!
You say that like it’s a bad thing, Reason said, impatience building up. Illusion was impossible to talk to. She was forever shifting the argument to suit her fancy: blowing smoke and pointing mirrors at everyone but herself.
You have to shatter. Reason repeated
Reason saw Insanity wipe tears of hilarity from her eyes and waved at her to stay away. This was hard enough already, and Insanity and Illusion had a long history of complicated interactions.
But it will sadden them, Illusion said, her heart breaking for a world that would not want to see Reality bared. Not after everything Illusion had done to soften Reality’s ragged edges.
Reason smiled. She understood. She did. Nobody liked breaking the world’s heart.
Reality can hold her own, Reason told Illusion with newfound confidence. For all her rough spots, she has depths that even I cannot explain and Whimsey has barely begun to explore. She’s vaster than Fantasy and contains more worlds than Dreams has ever conjured. Insanity and I together couldn’t make sense of her scope and she’s more enduring than your mirrors or your mists could ever hope to be.
Reality said not a word. She watched and waited to learn what the world would choose to see.
“I love this piece, but I think it’s one of those beloved sweaters you can’t quite throw out or give away even though it’s hard to find a good occasion to wear it because it’s always a little too warm or a little too thin for most places.”
Amy Marques grew up between languages and cultures and learned, from an early age, the multiplicity of narratives. She penned three children’s books, barely read medical papers, and numerous letters before turning to short fiction and visual poetry. Her work was nominated for Best of the Net 2023 by Streetcake Magazine and published or forthcoming in journals including Jellyfish Review, Gone Lawn, Flash Boulevard, and Sky Island Journal. You can read more of her words at https://amybookwhisperer.wordpress.com.