Little Monster

"Don't wait for a revelation. Get on with your life and the revelation wil come before you know it. Eventually, the little monster will die." --Allen Carr 1934-2006



Fred was stuck on a story. So he wandered out to the patio, on auto-pilot, to grab a smoke and a think. I'm running low on matches. he thought, Shoulda bought that three-pack of lighters at the dollar store.

"I wish you had bought the full-flavor cigarettes, too." said a munchkin-like voice.

Fred nearly jumped out of his skin. "What the...?", he squealed, looking towards the voice.

What he saw was a bi-pedal creature, half a meter tall. It had smooth, brownish skin with a few dark brown and black splotches. It walked a bit closer to him and added, "Or menthols. I like that little extra buzz."

"Who?," Fred stammered, "Where?"

"Gee," it said, "I expected a writer to be more articulate."

The thing grinned, showing yellowed teeth, "I'm Nic," it answered, "Where? I'm from you."

"You're...huh?" Fred managed.

"From your mind, or ego or whatever," Nic expanded, "a whole bunch of us in there.

"I had to get outta there. The Gambler is whining because you're broke. Now that you restarted drinking coffee and tea, Caff is awake and won't shut up, and Libido is moaning in his sleep," Nic continued, "They were driving me nuts!"

Fred calmed himself. It must be a dream, he rationalized. Since, to a writer, everything is material, he decided he would play along.

"OK, I can figure out what the rest of them are into." he said, "but what's your thing?"

The creature rolled it's eyes, "Seriously? I'm Nic. Short for Nicotine? Hello!"

Fred nodded, "Of course. So other than your...uh...roommates, why the visit?"

"Well, I thought I would say 'Hi'," Nic answered, "since I'm your favorite and all.

"I mean you feed me first thing in the morning and the last thing at night. And apparently everyone else can go to hell, as long as you have cash for smokes. It's pretty obvious."

That gave Fred a bit of a start, but it was right on. He always made sure he had cigarettes. If he didn't, he felt like he couldn't get anything done. He was suddenly starting to understand why. The connection never really dawned him until this moment.

"I gotta tell ya though," Nic said, interrupting Fred's thoughts, "the other day when you went five waking hours without lighting up, I was going crazy.

"You see, I sleep when you sleep. So, when we are up, it's up to you to keep me going.

"Every drag makes me jones for the next one. And after you finish a smoke, I can't wait for you to light another.

"It's a beautiful thing, because we help each other. You feed me, I help you concentrate and think." Nic concluded, grinning.

Fred looked at his dying cigarette. He could feel that need for the last few puffs. And now that Nic had pointed it out, he could already feel the urge for the next cigarette.

He had a question, "You said you sleep when I sleep. Doesn't that go for all of you?"

"Pretty much," Nic answered, "but Libido says he is active quite often when we are asleep. The Gambler said it happened to him a few times. Caff and I don't do the 'dream' thing."

"That's because the other two have a spiritual and social element," Fred mumbled thoughtfully, "while you and Caff are strictly chemical."

"What's that?" asked Nic.

"Nothing," said Fred, leading into another question, "You remember when I smoked pot?"

"Oh, yeah," Nic said as he sat down, in a lotus position, on the patio, "Mary Jane was hilarious. She would sleep WHILE you were smoking. She was a combo, you know: THC and food, crazy!"

"What happen to her?" Fred asked.

"Well, she was pretty passive, not at all like me. I mean I get anxious when you don't feed me, which I'm sure you've noticed," he said, with a wink.

"She woke up from one of her naps and mentioned she hadn't had a hit in a few days. I noticed that she was looking a little underfed and less active, but I was getting mine, so I didn't care that much," Nic shrugged and went on.

"Eventually, she never woke up and slowly disappeared," he finished, looking a little sad.

"So you are all kind of like characters I've created. As long as I concentrate on you, you thrive.

"And you all have different natures, so you react differently when I stop paying attention. You get anxious, Libido starts invading my dreams and so on," Fred added.

"I guess that's one way to put it," Nic agreed.

So if I stop the attention, you will die. Without taking me with you, Fred thought.

"Well back to your Psyche," Nic announced. Then 'POOF' he was gone.

Just then the ember on Fred's cigarette reached his fingers. With an expletive he dropped it on the patio. He stood up and put the butt in the coffee can he used as an ashtray.

"You don't 'help' me concentrate and think; you 'let' me, after I give you what you want," he said out loud to the spot the creature had recently vacated.

"I hope your affairs are in order, Nic, this is your notice."