Sweet Recollections [fiction]
I appreciate the plum for what it is, and not what it reminds me of. Or perhaps I don’t want to forget. I don’t want to continue draining.
In the summertime, plums are my only salve. I’m continually captivated by its fragrance, more flower than fruit. There is nothing more life-restoring than biting into a soft plum that’s sweet and cold.
I’ve been growing a plum tree, the only reason I can still stave off the scorching heat with a plum. I kept the pits in my pocket after draining, and I planted them in the small backyard that was allotted to me. Only one grew, but my plum tree bears fruit every summer, and every summer I take from the plum tree. I appreciate the plum for what it is, and not what it reminds me of. Or perhaps I don’t want to forget. I don’t want to continue draining.
Industrial draining killed people, not in a direct way. But once you’re drained, you enter a state of thoughtlessness that precedes existence. In other words, it’s death before death. Hunger and thirst do not exist. Desire is decimated. Afterwards, there is no way for the body to function.
I saw it happen once. On my first day, and an older man was being wheeled out of the facility. His eyes were glassy, as if the light stopped entering and exiting all out once. He’d been fully emptied.
Draining is a natural process for humans. It is impossible to hold onto everything, every thought, every memory. We think that these things are innately ephemeral but the brain is actually working behind the scenes, choosing what to let go and what to hold. But like everything, someone learned to capitalize on brain waste and harvest intelligence. The natural human process of forgetting becomes artificial, and often what follows the artificial is something dangerous.
Before you drain, you accumulate. No one will pay for an uneducated brain, so growing up, we chased after intelligence. An empty brain can’t be emptied, they’d say. School was cutthroat. Everyone wanted to score top of the class. A career in draining was the surest way to make good money, enough to support oneself and one’s family and maybe even one’s future children. No one knew that you had no chance at children in a life of draining. There’s simply not enough thought energy to expend.
Sometimes, I wake up with a mental delay – thoughts fail to arrive and for a brief moment, I am completely empty. It’s a scary feeling, as if you’re floating in an abyss or simply falling through the night sky. I get out of bed and my legs jello with vertigo. The shock of falling snaps my thoughts back in place. I eat a plum, and remember sweetness. My mind fills with memory, and it briefly occurs to me that tomorrow is a weekday, and I will be taken back for another draining.
Inspired by C Pam Zhang’s piece, BRAINDRAIN.