Cornelius lost his head…just went completely off.  One moment he was calm, cool and collected, the next – frantic and frustrated.  He had no idea where he left the darned thing.  It was gone without a clue.  Sometimes he left it somewhere he wanted to remember to return to later (which was smart, right?) but couldn’t remember where it was later without his head.  Some times it just rolled off and bounced away on its own.  Somebody said he should get it fixed… but it wasn’t broken.  That’s just the way he was.  Besides, what would all the others say if HIS was permanent…but what does everybody else do when they lose theirs?  Oh phoooey!!  Permanent heads…..that’s just crazy, it just isn’t done!

***While we stay strictly and completely away from politics on this blog, I can’t help but notice how much John’s image resembles the American electorate in each election cycle (although for this one – 2016 – I should have an image of a moron chugging draino).  It was originally published in Analog Magazine, Sept., 2006.  My short, flash-fiction fragment is good for keeping my twitter friends comfortable.  Long posts make them skiddish.  -Marsha