The day my head fell off…


The object of life is not to be on the side of the majority, but to escape finding oneself in the ranks of the insane.

                                             -Marcus Aurelius

I fumbled on my hands and knees searching. My ears could hear the frantic scuffling of my fingers to the ground behind me, and my eyes could see the world– a side-view –turning dark before me. I felt
a feeling deep within my gut
and my entire world collapsed, because my body was still
no longer beneath me.
I yelled.
“Over here”
“I’m down here… to your right–no your left. Just find me!
Pick me up –I need to be right           again.”
A pain struck my foreeye. I felt my heart skip a beat. And for the first time in a long while I closed my eyes and opened my mind, and I could see me–in pieces. My torso, my limbs now0 lay limp–exhausted, fetal.
I know you know I’m       here. There is movement from an arm, then the other. My legs begin to stand, and I watch from a million windows–my corpse walking. As I reopen my eyes the world is anew,
a shade of black I never known. My perspective upright. I stretch before me –my hands. Palms dirty. Eyes down– knees skinned.

Egypt English
2015 © E. English Publishing

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