The Five Senses at the
Fair
There were five brothers who lived in the Morning Time under
the blanket. The blanket was big and warm and felt like soft creation, but the
brothers moved about so much, telling rude jokes and pulling stray hair, that
they were never covered and they were cold. All five brothers said that it was
the blanket’s fault. The oldest brother, Taste, said, “I will go out and find
something that will keep me warm.” He left to work in a chili sauce factory as
a quality tester, burning his mouth as much as he could. The second brother was
Touch and he said, “This blanket is still a cold, short thing, I will go out to
find warmth.” He joined a sect that gives out literature on street corners and
hugged tightly all those who allowed him, bleeding what heat he could from
them. Brother Hearing did not even make his attention known. He just screamed
at the top of his lungs and ran to catch the fleeing sound waves. He became
employed at a shop that made customized emergency sirens. The fourth brother
was Smell and he said, “If, with only two of us here under the blanket, I still
cannot stay under, it is too small. I must go and be warm.” He followed the
scent of burning wood to campsites and worked as a forester. The last brother
under the blanket was Sight and he knew it was time to go. He became an art
critic and was warmed by disdain. All five brothers lived by themselves. All
five brothers purchased thick blankets for their beds. All five brothers
shivered into dawn. Years later and Taste went to an arts festival in the
woods. He was selling his new hot sauce from the back of a van. The festival
employed foresters to protect the setting and Smell was there. Touch’s sect
arrived to hand out literature. Sight was forced to attend by his editor, to
write up a feature on the event. In the demonstration area, Hearing was showing
off his new smoke alarm. He lit a fire and the technology blared and Smell came
following the enticing odor of ash and Taste came because his booth was nearby
and Touch followed the moving crowd, embracing whom he could, and Sight came
because he thought this might be the next big art movement to explode. The five
brothers saw each other and paused. They were remembering the Morning Time and
the blanket. How it felt like grace. How it reeked of kindness. How it looked
like arms embracing. How it rustled like movement slowing to sleep. How it
tasted like summer nights. The five brothers. The blanket. The sense of this
accord.