Habit & Reflection


Habit is quick to volunteer. He muscles his way to the front of the line

with his hand in the air saying, “me, me, take me, I know what to do.” Once he

gets picked, he settles in with his safety blanket and the thick manual of

How We Do Things. I don’t have to think anymore which is nice at first,

but then because I have all this time on my hands from not thinking I get

bored. And also annoyed. Habit is a mechanical toy. He only moves

sideways into depression. He pokes the same wounds all the time. He falls

over by the slightest trigger and lies there wiggling his arms and legs like a

beetle on its back waiting to be turned right side up. Then I have to call his stepbrother, reflection, to come and fix it. When reflection walks in the

door, he always says “Oh, I see habit is here again. I thought you weren’t

doing him anymore. You didn’t have to call me for that.” And of course, I

know he is right. There is a reason habit and reflection are estranged.

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