CONVERSATIONAL STORM-SURGE

Nope, I have no idea what he's talking about, not a clue. Normally the stuff that comes out of his mouth makes scant sense anyhow. Some days he's better than other days. But even at his best, you rather wish you hadn't started the conversation for fear of where he'll take it.

He's just not as firmly anchored in my version of reality as you or I could wish.


I am talking about the head of the security detail watching the building, of course. Whenever I see him on my way in or out I say 'hi'. Which will always prompt some odd nonsequitorial dialogue. Such as the time he responded by telling me all about the colours of a butterfly he had seen years ago. Or when he started speculating about height-augmentation for bald people, so that the tops of their heads would not show.

It took me several months to realize that his private thoughts were always of a richness beyond normal comprehension. Very complex, too.

Today, as I wait for the elevator, I can hear and see him speaking to nobody. He's pacing around animatedly, and giving voice.


"When the Jedi and the Sith meet up again, there will be blood let me tell you! Righteousness will be restored, justice! The sands of the hot planet will be crimson and wet with the liquid of combat, and it will be good again!"


Should I be worried that the guard unit is commanded by someone with a rich inner life? Or are these operational details that he is mulling over, out loud?

"There are screws at the bottom of each saber - some go left, some go right."

I did not know that.

"Some are green - a green so intense that you cannot see it. Only the pure of heart can see it."

At this point a woman who came into the lobby just a moment ago turns around and leaves. She works in the building, and I was expecting her to come over to the elevators.
I am now alone with the increasingly agitated security personage.

"The force is sometimes so great that it carries you into the path of tractor beams. Engineers of the Guild Academy are cognizant of the problem, but they just aren't doing anything! They refuse! They refuse!"


As the elevator doors close, I can hear him gasping "there are SPIKES under their ROBES!"


Good thing it's the end of the week. He sounds like he needs a few days off.