GLASS SOUP by Jonathan Carroll (funny books to read .txt) 📕

on her back two feet above the pavement, moving very fast toward who knows where. She was pumping her arms too, as if there were invisible oars in her hands and she was rowing a boat. Down to her knees, up to her chest, down to her knees… the faster she rowed, the faster she flew above the sidewalk.

No one around seemed surprised. She passed an old woman walking two little dogs. Then a mother pushing a baby carriage who glanced indifferently at her and then away. Not a word, not a raised eyebrow. Next, Isabelle passed a kid clicking along pretty fast in the same direction on a yellow skateboard. Then a well-dressed man in a Chesterfield coat standing in the middle of the sidewalk reading a newspaper. He looked down at her as she passed and impassively back at his paper. No one paid attention to Isabelle; no one gave her more than a cursory glance as she floated by, flat on her back, arms pumping.

If she needed to avoid anything she just stopped moving one hand and pulled hard with the other. That was how she steered left or right. It was exactly like rowing a boat.

Nor did anything seem strange about the world around her. She saw trees blowing in the wind, pedestrians, and a blue and orange hot dog stand with several workers lounging in front of it drinking beer. Nothing appeared different other than her mode of travel which, although strange, she was beginning to enjoy. She really had no idea where she was going, but for the moment that didn’t matter. Because bizarre as it was, it had become one of the more exhilarating physical experiences she’d had.

This was the third time it had happened, so she was a little less shocked than before when the experience had been so new and disturbing. The first time she was brought here, she had been sitting on the couch in her apartment looking at a magazine. She was turning a page when suddenly—poof—she was in this place, this land, or whatever it was. For an hour or two she wandered around, scared out of her wits. But nothing happened. She wandered, looked at things, wondering and worrying all the time What is this? Where am I? Why am I here? Then just as suddenly, poof—she was back on the couch again.

The second time she was in the kitchen cooking an egg when, poof—she was back here. It appeared to be the same town but she didn’t really get a chance to find out because her visit was very brief—only a few minutes. In fact that second time she was actually walking up to someone to ask them where she was when, poof.

This time the last thing she saw was her hand turning the silver lock on a gray toilet stall door. The next moment she was on her back flying above a sidewalk. It was that fast and simple.

Remembering something, Isabelle desperately dropped both hands to her stomach. Feeling the child inside her there, she let out her breath in a fast relieved whoosh. Now she was okay. She had always had the baby inside her when she was brought here before, but who knew how things worked in this mysterious place? She always had to check herself to see if she had brought Anjo with her.

For the first time since arriving, she looked down at her body and saw that she was wearing the same clothes she’d had on in the restaurant a few minutes before. That hadn’t changed. Her mind was clear, her stomach swelled with the baby, her clothes were the same… it was as if she’d only walked from one room to another. But in this room she could fly—on her back.

She defined the experience to herself now as “blinking.” Because that’s exactly how it felt when it happened—one second you’re here, then blink, and you’re there.

This was the third time it had happened in a month. Isabelle had said nothing about it to anyone because she wasn’t sure what she wanted to say yet.

If she had tried to describe the experience, she would have said From one moment to the next I leave here and appear there. It’s completely out of my control how and when it happens. Sometimes it’s strange and surreal there. I see things that are impossible to imagine or describe because no words do them justice. Other times when I’m there it is little different from real life. Nothing bad has ever happened. I am just taken there awhile and then I am returned to my life.

“Hello!”

Isabelle had been so lost in both her surroundings and thoughts about being here again that she hadn’t noticed when the tiny man suddenly appeared on her stomach. About the size of a salt shaker, he nevertheless wore a fancy black suit, crisp white shirt, and black silk tie that reflected the passing light. Only his loud hello brought her back to the moment. Thirty inches down her body, he waved at her. He looked so happy and expectant that she felt compelled to say something.

“Hello. Who are you?”

Hitching up his trousers, he sat down on the high mound that was her tummy. But he did it so carefully that she barely felt the added weight. “My name is Broximon. How do you do?” He waved again.

“Excuse me? What did you say your name was?”

He smiled as if he’d heard that question before. “Broximon.”

“Broximon.” She had to say his name herself. It sounded familiar, but she was too preoccupied at the moment to figure out why. She did try his name out on her tongue as if it were some kind of new taste.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s right. And welcome to you, Isabelle. It’s high time we met.”

Because she hadn’t moved her arms since noticing him, her body had begun to slow until it came to a complete stop in the air. Then it gently floated