Darwin's Story

"There is so much I want to do but can't," I say.

Mitch the Cat sneers. "Like what?"

"Escape. Take a vow of silence. Run away into the woods. Sail into the middle of the Pacific and just drift like a well-endowed castaway. Say what I want to say to people, say what I believe. Know what I believe."

"Why can't you?"

I throw my arms about a bit and huff in frustration. "I can't afford a sailboat, I'm a goddamn student. If I run off into the woods I will die. If I become silent I will lose my job."

"So?"

"What? What do you mean 'So?'?"

"What about knowing and saying what you believe? Why can't you do that?"

"Because I have no time. That would take so much damn time, to find that. And then to find the courage!"

He says, "The courage comes naturally."

I look away and mutter: "I just can't. Not enough..."

And he says, "Whatever."

I shut up. I was too angry with him and my reasons were valid. Why did he not just listen to me? Why couldn't he understand the incurable not knowing I possessed?

After some time staring out the window onto the street, he turned to me and said:

"You're living a story, Leo. The story of what you cannot allow yourself to do. The story of fear of the world, fear of change, fear of life. It's all very natural, very Darwinian, but you're better than that. I know you are; I believe in you."