Wandering down the street, I decided to turn the corner on my way to the grocery store. From the shadows an old man suddenly appeared. He held out his blotched hand to me and grabbed my collar. His face was completely wrinkled and he had two meager strands of gray hair dangling over his forehead.

"The human brain is nothing more than a bag of chemicals." His voice wavered ever so slightly.

He held his mouth wide open for a second or two and then continued. "A bag of chemicals."

I learched to the side and pulled myself loose from his grip, brushing his invisible impressions from my sleeve. Step, step, step on forward. The old man fell back into the shadows and disappeared completely. Except for his voice and the words he had spoken.

Even now they continue to ring inside my head. What could he have meant exactly? Surely he must be some crazy man, or was he? Perhaps this was some message, a warning to which I should heed. A bag of chemicals.

Later on I figured it out. What he was trying to tell me. What he really meant. The message.