A Passage From The Garaghon Memoirs

Bigger Not Better

Occasionally I would take stock of my life, closer inspection brought no real insights, there were good days and there were bad days, the sun would rise and the sun would set but in between I strove to see the beauty of the world around me..  Spring was my favourite time of the year because I didn't have to look too hard.  Life took matters into it's own hands and forced itself into the world; buds and blossom, slowly lengthening evenings, the strengthening sun, happiness spilling out onto the pavements like melted butter.  Try as some might, there was no escaping it and I embraced it like a much missed friend.

It was whilst I was gorging on this springtime feast that I began to realize that something was amiss.  The tight vibrant green and white twirls of the lily I was admiring were the first thing I noticed - they were just so big.  And the more I looked the bigger they became.  As I looked around I saw that it wasn't only the lily leaves, it was everything and the harder I looked, the larger it all appeared.  Bees the size of my fist knee high shrubs appeared to me as The Foinavon, delicate blooms magnified to triffid proportions.

A kernel of fear unfurled slowly in the pit of my stomach.  What was happening to me?  I looked down at my hands and they were no longer mine, they were the hands of a giantess, too big to belong in my world.  I recognized them though.  The folds and creases, the long deep head line, the forked heart line dotted with islands, the scar on my right forefinger - a lesson in patience that I'd failed to learn.  These were my hands, seen through my eyes.  I slammed them shut.

And I kept hem that way for a long time - two days - so afraid was I of what I might see when I opened them.  Floating in the darkness I felt serene.  In my mind's eye I could feel the world deflate, as if emitting as enormous sigh, and even though I couldn't see it, I knew that everything had returned to its original size.

I opened my eyes and everything was as it was.  My heart sang with relief.  It had seemed so real, bigger than reality but maybe it had just been my fertile imagination  I held tightly on to this hope.

It soon became clear that it was not my imagination, at the oddest of times and without warning the world would suddenly loom large.  And as time passed large became larger, like the language books my sister and I had loved so much as children, large ballooned to larger but where largest lay I could not conceive.

I began to rest my vision for weeks at a time but still the world continued to grow, the speed and frequency with which these episodes occurred was such that I finally resolved to take action.  Inaction, perhaps, is a more accurate description.  I closed my eyes ans this time they stayed closed.  Even as i felt the world shrink, and although I knew that everything had reverted to its actual size, I clamped my lids closer together.  I knew that I only had a limited number of sights left to see and I didn't want to waste them.

In the interim i replayed all that I had ever seen, concentrating as never before, noticing things that at some point passed me by.  Looking, watching, seeing...

Meanwhile, I pondered over what my final optical delights might be with almost religious fervour.  Waves of darkness lapped against my shores as I agonized over what was worthy enough to devote my fading powers of sight upon.  But my musings were as worthless as the ideas they produced, animals facing extinction, great works of art, what remained of the seven wonders...  These things meant nothing to me.

And though some might say that my actions were rash, impetuous, even foolish, I saw what I cherished the most.  The smile of a friend as we laughed together, her eyes closed in mirth, unaware that I was watching her lose herself in the joy of our shared moment.  Our hands clasped together as we shook with delight, the joke was shared but the moment was all mine.  I saw so much.  The sun setting, gently drifting snow, the iridescent rainbow of petrol in bubbles, the raging ocean, my Mother's tears, a leafy glade bathed in shafts of sunlight, a door slammed in my face, blood pumping on to the tarmac, snatches - like snapshots framed in my heart - of my brother's wedding day, the sunrise, spilt milk, the face of the man I mistook for the love of my life, a storm of cherry blossom raining down on me.  All these things i allowed myself and for each one of them I was eternally grateful.

I could sense that the world was continuing to expand, even behind my tightly locked lids, and I knew that the time had come to close my eyes for good.  But there was one more sight that I wished to see, someone that I had not seen for the longest time.

I dressed with care; my friends described my clothes to me in minute detail, my favourites dictated not by colour or comfort but by how well I thought that they suited me.  And there I was, just the same as i remembered.  And it was so good to see me again, to see that I was still me, that my memories hadn't lied.

So I stood before my reflection, drinking me in until I was in danger of drowning, until I became too big for my eyes to see, the world expanding beyond my comprehension.  And, without regret, I brought my lashes together for the final time.  I needed to see no more.  I held more than enough in my head, and in my mind's eye, it was beautiful to behold.