Biking and stuffed animals

Yesterday, I rode my bike for the first time since December 27th. I was crossing the old wooden bridge at Short Creek when out of the blue I had a strange thought. It was actually a question: what will happen to Molly’s stuffed animals when her and Millie abandon their Sentra?

Here’s what I had written several days earlier.

Millie took ten minutes to eat a cold slice of last night’s pizza and drink a large cup of coffee. Out of habit, she poured the remaining coffee from the pot into the sink and dumped the coffee grounds and filter into the trash. “Okay, okay,” she said aloud if answering the voice in her head that asked, “what are you doing?” Habits were hard to break.

She walked back up stairs, this time taking two steps at a time. It took ten-minutes to pack two duffel bags with an assortment of clothes and toiletries, and toss all of Molly’s stuffed animals into a large trash bag. Whatever else they needed, they could purchase down the road or in New York City.

Millie skipped a shower and changed into jeans and a sweatshirt, and removed Colton’s S & W 357 pistol from his nightstand. Although the theft would send Colton into a rage Millie believed she had no choice. They were hitting the road and would face all types of danger. Simply put, the pistol was for protection, her’s and Molly’s. Plus, the S & W was her only choice, since Colton kept his other guns locked in the giant safe at the end of the hall. Millie stuffed the gun into her duffel and transported everything outside to the twenty-year old Sentra.

from Millie’s Story

When the thought appeared I wasn’t thinking about my story. But, apparently my subconscious was. It recognized there might be an issue, or it was trying to make a mountain out of a mole hill (sorry!). When I pedaled ahead and pondered the issue the only thing I could come up with was the Toledo bus station might have some old suitcases to sell (maybe they’d been abandoned by prior customers), and the stuffed animals would tag along underneath the bus all the way to New York City.

But, this morning at my desk, I did some more brainstorming and decided Millie will ask Ray (from Ray’s Service Center) if he will ship the stuffed animals to Molly in New York City (she already has their apartment’s address).

I don’t have a clue where thoughts come from. The thought at the old bridge just appeared, out of the blue. My thoughts since then about how to handle this issue appear more self-directed. But, are they? Did they too just appear? One would think they’re caused by something, but what?

I’m pretty sure I don’t consciously choose my thoughts. As Sam Harris says, “we cannot choose what we choose.” I think he means they appear, otherwise we’d have to think them before we think them.

This is a little deep for me so, for now, I’m going to blame Millie. She’s the one who tossed Molly’s stuffed animals into a trash bag and carried them to the Sentra.

Author: Richard L. Fricks

Former CPA, attorney, and lifelong wanderer. I'm now a full-time skeptic and part-time novelist. The rest of my time I spend biking, gardening, meditating, photographing, reading, writing, and encouraging others to adopt The Pencil Driven Life.

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