Fall 2012 Issue

greeted him, and wanted him and his attention. His heart was a steely watch without springs—he read it for emotion as frequently as he read it for time. And who reads a broken watch for time? He had stopped looking at himself at all. If the strangers he met every day didn’t want to look him in the eyes, why should he want to look himself in the eyes?

“Hello,” he had gingerly begun to reply when passing the visually dynamic arrangement of dresses and jewelry and that bright, pleasant fedora.

He scraped together enough money to merit an in-store greeting and a breathless caress. When was the last time he involuntarily held his breath? The muskrat gave the slightest smile. True, he smiled all day long with potential customers, but that smile was like smudged carnival face paint. It was full of an alienating effort that meant nothing to anyone.

This hat had come to define the inside of the muskrat’s head, and his thoughts flared into a psychedelic worship. The magenta color was like a stunning commitment to excess, and the hollow space, a blockade that cradled falling cannons above stoic blades of grass. The rim blossomed like a single pedal whose fortune was guaranteed—“She loves me.” Courted by the wit of dreams, the muskrat forgave the brashness of his infatuation and married it to his existence. His future wore precisely such a hat as this. He exited the shop, and scurried down the street. He scurried up the street.

“Hello.” He entered the shop.

“How much is this hat?”

The badger working in the boutique looked up with a plaster grin, and ran her heavily made-up eyes over the disheveled rodent, “Just one moment, please. I’ll be right with you!” She was doing paperwork.

The muskrat strangled his briefcase handle, massaging sweat into the cheap, black plastic. He stared at a framed certificate on the wall, seeing only the gold medallion in the lower right corner.

It looked like foil—pliable, tear able. He turned to the mirror-faced display counters dripping crystal bangles, broaches that wore gems like smaller broaches and soft pink chokers studded with diamonds.

Spilled across the icy surface, these items bred twin treasures, and it looked like twice the opulence of truth.

“What can I help you with?” said the badger, fluffing the fur at the base of her ears.

“Oh, well, I was interested in this hat.”

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