A Short Story by Anantha Krishnamurthy

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

“I thought a trip to Chucky Cheese will excite you,” she said. What do you mean you don’t like it. It is Chucky Cheese for crying out loud! Pizza and arcade games. You can’t go wrong, surely!”

“Are you crazy?,” I replied on my AAC device. “An unlimited feast of sensory overload? I will pass. Besides, I conjure up the most vibrant and creative games in my autistic mind. All day long, incessantly, to escape my desert of desolation. My chances of going there are slimmer than me reciting Shakespeare.”

“You do the planning then,” she replied with exasperation. “What would your highness wish to partake in instead?”

“Exciting neuro-typical games!,” I replied with a long tail of exclamation marks tacked on. “Bitch about parents. Fabricate the next juicy class gossip. The list is endless. Oh what fun!”

“OK. Here is the next gossip I will spread,” she groaned. “Mr. flappy hands isn’t so divergent than the rest of us after all!”

“But way smarter,” I interjected with a smile emoji. “The desert of desolation does offer an oasis. Plato’s pedestal. I ponder weighty existential questions perched there. Perhaps I should become the class spiritual guru with all that wisdom.”

“Do you offer dating advice?” Her eyes perked up.

NOTE From the Author: This story basically dispels the myth that we prefer not having deep friendships. It also argues that our isolation gives rise to some remarkable talents.

Published originally on Facebook at Anantha’s musings.

Republished with full permission of the author.

For more of Anantha’s powerful voice, please visit their Facebook page.

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