Merry Go Round

A Brief Appointment with William Robinson

 The entity adjusted his tie and brushed a speck of dust off his suit. He liked to call himself William Robinson, he thought it was pretty clever of him and he smiled an extra wide smile of pride when anyone asked what his middle name was. While adjusting his tie, William Robinson decided he disliked it and in one swift movement of his hand, he tore it off from around his neck and, with a flick of his wrist, ripped it in two. William Robinson saw dark red liquid gushing from the two torn ends of the tie which twitched and writhered and floor for a second then lay still.

 The image of the ripped tie flickers and now William Robinson sees two parts of an arm, bleeding where they're torn. He assumes it was a sword that cut it, he watches the life fade out of the man whose arm it was. William Robinson blinks again and now the red carpet next to him explodes, the pieces of red cotton looking like specks of blood, then in a blink they are. The flying blood, catapulted by the explosion of what William Robinson assumes to be a bomb, mixed with the mud of the trenches. Outside the window of his office a bird begins to scream a high pitched wail which only increases in pitch. William Robinson blinks and now he is standing next to a pale youngman, its his first day and his legs are shaking. He has wet himself out of fear but noone notices in the dark and wet condtions, nobody cares. William Robinson tells the young man as the high pitched whine gets louder, "Don't worry, I heard somewhere that you can never hear the shell that hits you."

"Who are you" Begins the young man, eyes wide with surprise as he sees William Robinson appear out of air thick with the smell of gunpowder. But his question is never answered as the screaming explosive hits him in the chest. William Robinson winces as one might upon seeing a painful tackle during a sporting game.

 William Robinson blinked again, outside his window the bird tweeted a tuneful repetitive song, on the floor was the torn tie, not bleeding, just lying there with frayed fabric ends. William Robinson shook his head as he smiled, it vexed and amused him simultaneously when the parts of him scattered around the universes overlapped. For he was there, William Robinson, upon every battlefield, every conflict.  His thoughts were disturbed by the gentle tapping of his secretary's knuckles against the exterior of his wooden office door. She waited the customary five seconds before entering, she opened her mouth to report William Robinson's schedule for the day but William Robinson beat her to it.

 "Clare, don't you think its fascinating that every civilization has conflict and battle. No civilization exits in perfect harmony, there are always disagreements which eventually escalate to war. Yet the very fact that a civilization is in conflict links it to every other civilization in the world, they are united with the rest of the universe in their capacity to wage war. Its fascinating, ironic and beautiful is it not? That the whole multiverse is united in conflict." mused the entity which called itsself William Arthur Robinson.