Monday, December 28, 2009

Perfectly Still

Something inexplicable jolts me. The physical sensations - pounding of my heart, taste of tin in my mouth, shallow irregular and rapid breathing – are intense.

The blankets lay perfectly positioned atop me as if someone had only a few moments ago said ‘sweet dreams’ and tucked me in for the night. The air, shadows, small jewels of light that dance along the ceiling, down the walls and back up again do not move.

Despite the feelings that pulse through me, I can not fully discern my being; who I am, where I am, whether I am asleep or awake.

I can see and feel myself lying upon a large primitive wooden cart with roughly shapen platform, axles and wheels. I am being pushed or pulled along by everyone and no one, in and to a stark white place that is both familiar and nowhere I have ever been before.

The panic wells in me. Like a large inanimate object my body does not, will not, move. I am sure that I am dead. The fear settles into relief ever so slightly as I hold my breath and scan the room.

No comments: