Two years ago, art brought peace to the city of Houston. All anyone had to do was put your bad memories behind you and keep moving forward.

 

It went slowly at first. The people that typically inhabited museums came and went. The artists said it was a surreal experience. The critiques said it was a muted light show. The intellectuals said it was an astronaut’s dream. However it was defined, the infinity machine was an art piece like no other.

 

Those that came back were still themselves, but they had let go of all their bad memories. They still had emotions and opportunity to make many more pleasant memories, their slates had simply been wiped clean. An alcoholic came back without addictions. A gossip found they had no news left to spread. Even a reformed convicted criminal could return with a clear conscience. Everyone could start their lives anew making choices free from fear or guilt. Stress was gone and the city seemed to live in bliss.

 

 

That’s when I knew for certain that the infinity machine had to be destroyed.

 

I chose a quiet Thursday to make the walk to the gray concrete building that looked nothing like a chapel from any era. As I stood upon the threshold I heard an eerie moaning coming from inside. I nervously put in my earplugs underneath a noise-canceling headset and checked my large sunglasses. Hopefully, these measures would protect me, but I had no true way of knowing.

 

Many scientists had tried to determine why the exhibit seemed to cause specific memory loss and couldn’t agree. Some thought that the soundtrack of nano-space particles actually replicated those particles through sound waves and entered the brain, destroying pieces of it. Others argued that the light show bounced images through the countless mirrors and into an individual’s eyes replacing thoughts and memories. Whatever the case, the public began to panic about a mind-altering art exhibit, and of course, officials decided to claim it wasn’t possible. Mass hysteria was blamed and the exhibit was given a warning sign.

 

“Warning: Exhibit May Cause Neuro Deficits – Enter at your own risk”. I looked at the sign and shook my head. They should have closed the place down, but too many people relied upon the given freedom, including people with money and political power. Politics will be the death of all of us.

 

I braced myself and pushed myself through the doors. Nobody was stationed at the front desk anymore and I walked into the dark room with my baseball bat brandished. Through my dark lenses, I could see them. It was all I saw. The worse moments of everyone’s lives. I saw thefts, tears, and violence. It was horrible.

 

I felt a tug within this myriad of sights. This was why people came here. Nobody wanted to keep these things in their life. If I destroyed these mirrors, would all that pain return in an instant? I might be the cause of destroying so many lives. I saw people who had even lost loved ones unfairly. I knew that pain. I still had deep holes in my heart that I believed would never heal, despite what anyone said. I would never be able to forget Christina on my own. Here was a chance to begin again, find new love. It wouldn’t hurt my wife, she was already gone.

 

But as I reached for my sunglasses, I found another realization. I never wanted to forget her. I had so many memories of love and there would never be another like her. I also noticed, after studying the confusing mess of twisting mirrors, that there were scenes repeating themselves. I could see a child that was constantly putting her hands on hot surfaces and teenagers being beaten by bullies over and over. And my God…there were so many murders committed so freely. Not only had the people of Houston forgotten how to learn from their mistakes, but there were no longer any internal repercussions for dark desires. There was an easy fix for every situation and so, those situations were becoming normal.

 

With my mind clear once again, understanding the seriousness of the situation, I began the smashing. Glass shards sprayed everywhere and stung me a thousand times. The soundtrack seemed to rise higher in pitch, piercing through my protections. With each mirror broken, the memory stored inside left hazy afterimages in my mind and I felt everyone’s pain for a single moment. It felt like I spent forever in that whirlwind of lights. Once I could no longer find any mirrors to break I stared at the broken-bloody piles of glass that filled every space on the floor.

 

I had given everyone back their pain, but that is how it is meant to be.

 

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