On weekends Otto reads. His recliner tilts back like the cradle of an astronaut prepared for liftoff. A beer bottle stands erect as a rocket on the table beside him. He blows a continuous plume of smoke as he works through the pack of cigarettes he will smoke. When hungry he microwaves a few dogs and sets a bag of chips between his legs. He carries his paperbacks with him to the bathroom and sits at length, not rushing anything. Only when Darla comes home from work does he stop. He places a finger between the pages to ask about her day. He listens patiently until Darla slips away to the coffee maker. He begins reading.

This time, however, Darla has found a novel in the library’s selection of new books titled Otto Reads. It comes from the literary shelf. Otto recalls that in the last book he read the villainous Massimiliano had been frozen in time and died from the shock of being thawed. Seconds passed, but to the villain his agony spanned weeks. As soon as Otto sees the book he experiences his entire weekend in a moment. His response is a tepid, “oh.”

“I know you’re not a big fan of hardbacks,” Darla says. “But I thought you might get a kick out of this one. It’s about a man reading a book. And that book is called Otto Reads, which is about the man who’s reading the book. And if you read the book it’ll be like you’re in a hall of mirrors. It sounds like science fiction, doesn’t it?”

Otto glances suspiciously at the cover. The covers of science fiction books do not resemble boxes of generic brand corn flakes.

“So what you’re saying is, you’re trying to drive me mad? Because that’s what happens in stories with mirror image devices. Inevitably a man is confronted with everything his psyche has pushed deep into the abyss of his soul in order to protect the fragilely constructed persona he wears in everyday life. Knowledge of the true self is like nitroglycerin. Bam!”

“Well, it’s just a book. It’s not like I’m forcing you to read it. I just thought you might like it.”

Otto’s destiny settles on his lap like a house cat with soft fur and claws. Darla suspects she may have been thoughtless in her moment of thoughtfulness. If she concludes that her concept of Otto is a misconception, she won’t blame the construct, she’ll blame the man himself. Otto senses the danger as certainly as if she had drawn a cigarette from her purse. It could easily have been a gun. Darla loves an idealized Otto. He mustn’t bring to mind that she married a lump of meat and gristle.

“No, darling Darla, I should read it. You’re my wife and you’re supposed to expose me to new ideas and new planes of reality to explore. I’m just saying, if I start to act odd–for me–you may be called upon to engage in spiritual battle for my sanity.”

“That’s a daily struggle for me.”

“Quite so,” says Otto. Darla starts toward the kitchen and Otto sneaks a peak at the first few lines. Otto suspected this was going to be the worst book he ever read. He could not be more right.

3 Things About This Flash Fiction

1. A sci-fi fan who doesn’t like hardbacks is itself the stuff of science fiction.
2. Otto is a palindrome. Did you notice that? Oh. You did.
3. The point of this is: Marriage is like a hall of mirrors where one is forced to see oneself in distorted, unrecognizable reflections.