Tuesday, July 22, 2008
from page 2 of the subject's notebook:
"The amorphous clouds in the oriental painting billowed in from behind, bringing along with it a sense of torpid foreboding."
opening
dust-laden eyes
surveying the
familiar surroundings
which
morph unfamiliarly.
the horizontal line
which was once parallel to the steady
ground
tilted.
the bed followed,
then the subject
slid
down the gradient.
in the expected
drama
fashion:
blinking once or twice
to clean
the cornea.
but it wasn't
the eyes.
rolling around
for several moments
did not have to gather the
courage
to sit up.
the typical
dazed sitting,
then a reaching out
towards the knob.
the calves strong
enough to
support the
body mass.
twist, clear,
open.
first morning
sight.
clutching the
armchair
armchair.
then twist, clear,
open.
table.
twist, clear,
open (???).
relieve,
clouds and smoke
roll
in
(but not only from one direction).
grip, quickly,
the door
frame
on the
right, then the
door on the left.
sat,
thud on the
cold, tiles.
one scream,
await.
second scream,
await.
the subject
decides to
crawl
out of the
mess himself.
barely a step,
realised that the opening door would hit
the subject if the subject sat behind it (did she hear me?)
the final attempt --
a third scream which
expelled
all remnant
drafts
in the subject's
lungs.
topped with the replica
"COME!"
sent her rushing inside.
"Did you fall?"
The subject said,
"I sat down slowly,"
with all the pride he could manage.
mused at 10:47 pm
________________________________________
: 6:54 pm