Dirk Gently and The Waking Sea of Reality

You're Making A Face, One I Know All Too Well

Dirk was right. Not that it was in question that he was wrong, he was never wrong. He would like to make it abundantly clear that he was always right, even if it seems like he is wrong. And I can't technically argue with that point, because he was never wrong. But that doesn't mean he isn't wrong sometimes, he's wrong a lot... A startling amount of the time actually... But when it came to hunches, he was never technically wrong. It always came back to what he had said.

       Even that gum on the sidewalk he thought was important made its way into their day because right after he saw it, he was so distracted texting Todd that someone bumped into him and he fell to the sidewalk and it ended up in his hair. They thus spent the rest of their day with a whiny Dirk who refused to let Todd just, cut it out, no, he would not just cut it out. That's absolutely preposterous. There had to be some sort of magic-gum-hair-remover-serum or machine. No? Are you kidding me?! Humans have spent so long with this struggle and they manage to create the most useless of devices but when it came to something as common and as absolutely annoying as this they had nothing?

       So while Dirk would like to point out he was never wrong, I'd like to put emphasis on the word "technically".

       Because the person who just barged through the door was integral to the case. A case. A new case. Just as Dirk had predicted.

       They stood in the door, arms outstretched, holding them open with their two arms in a wide stance, regaining their breath.

       They could be described as eccentric. The type of person who you walk into a room and immediately you recognize that they had been there. No, not in a bad way. Not at all. In the best way possible. They were the type of person you call after a breakup and they bring you Chinese food, ice-cream, weed, and a bottle of your favorite alcoholic substance, not just wine, their poison of choice was whisky. Another immediate teller of the type of person they were.

       Their hair was pixie short, fiery, and curly. Their excellent fashion sense was apparent with their checker-print skater skirt, purple turtleneck sweater and white bomber jacket combo paired perfectly with tights and combat boots. A long silver pendant of a skeleton key sat on their swelling chest that angrily sucked in air from the exhaustion of their sprint of desperation. A folder in one of their hands. A spare sapphire blue, 99¢, paper folder that cracked white in spots and was taped together in a hasty attempt to save it. It was the type of folder that you expect to be clearly taken from an old box that once sat in a parent's attic labeled, "middle school stuff" but traveled to college with them in a new box labeled, "memories". It had the once middle-school appropriate label, "English" but it was recently scribbled over and replaced with the words "Cydney Case" sloppily written in broad, black sharpie. Their magnificent emerald eyes glistened with tears that streamed down their beach of a freckled face.

       They were indeed the type of person who could make your day with a smile. But the consequence of that was if they were upset, everyone in the same building as them would feel it too. And this was a distinct feeling.

       They were making a face. An unmistakable one. The face of someone desperate, lost, and completely and utterly scared and confused. And being the type of person they were, this was felt in everyone.

       But despite this feeling of dread and doom, Dirk, Todd, and Farah all exchanged looks of complete amazement and excitement. A full-blown conversation taking place in the span of only a few seconds and only through blinks and brow movements. Most of the "talking" came in the form of "I told you so" from both Dirk and Todd to Farah. Dirk's face suddenly moved from that sentence to, "Right, they need help!" He turned to the person in the door.