Strange Observations

Late on a sunny morning, during the month after the month that came before the month that preceded the month before the current month, as the hands on my watch (which was running slightly behind time, as it always does) were fast approaching the approximate hour of noon, I chanced to turn my gaze upward, whereupon I beheld a most unusual thing. There, gently floating in the blue sky above my head, proudly declaring itself as if it actually had every right to be a graceful denizen of the air, was an old steam locomotive, utterly resplendent in black and silver, pulling fourteen cars behind it, each of which was filled with happy passengers. Then, after the full length of the train had sped across my field of view, it headed toward the horizon and was seen no more.

Let me assure you that I had not tasted a drop of alcohol that morning, nor was I under the corruptive sway of narcotics. No, I am quite certain that, when I saw what I saw, however surprising and unlikely it might have seemed, I did actually see what I appeared to be seeing. I am certain, also, that I saw what I saw the next morning, when I beheld, high above the ground on which I was standing, a huge ship with tall masts and broad sails, of the kind that once was captained by Sir Francis Drake, smoothly traversing the clear sky. Again, I can assure you that, as had been the case on the preceding day, my mind was fresh and sharp, being utterly free of alcohol or narcotics. I know, as well as I know my own name, that my ability to see was not impaired to any degree whatsoever.

When, on the third day of my strange observations, I looked up and beheld a grand carriage overhead, pulled by a strong team of four horses, I was compelled to question, in a serious way, the true essence of my mental condition. I knew, beyond doubt, that I was completely sober, but was I also completely rational? If indeed I was both completely sober and completely rational, then why, I had to wonder, was I suddenly given to seeing such unaccountable sights? The more that I pondered the entire matter, the more I became determined to seek (and, I earnestly hoped, in the end to find) an acceptable explanation for what I had seen. In the meantime, I kept my eyes directed toward the sky, curious as to whether I would see anything further.

A week quietly passed, during which I did not observe anything else of an unusual description. One day, while conversing with a good friend of mine, a reasonable man of sound judgment and even temperament, whose opinion I greatly valued, I mentioned all the odd things that I had seen. I recounted to him, somewhat nervously, the surprising sights that I had beheld high above me: the old steam locomotive, the huge ship, and the grand carriage, taking the utmost care to be as straightforward as I could in describing them. To my extreme dismay, my friend did not take it well. He quickly stepped back, gave me a funny look, muttered something to himself, and then scuttled away. After that, I decided that it probably would be best if, in future, I kept my strange observations to myself.

As I write these words, which I solemnly proclaim, to all the world, to be unimpeachably forthright in their portrayal of all that I have seen of late, I am quite aware that anyone who reads them is likely to dismiss my testimony. Such is the awkward lot of one who happens to see things that other people do not see. Still, I must acknowledge what I have observed with my own eyes, regardless of how difficult it might be for others to believe. I know that I have seen what I have seen, and that is all there is to be said about it. To say any more would be to say something that clearly does not need to be said. Therefore, I will not attempt to offer any explanation for the talking sandwich that I encountered during my lunch yesterday. (The same also applies, of course, to the talking banana.)