How To Get Present
Suddenly, like a freight train pulling into the station, wheels squealing, this immovable weight comes crashing down on her, enveloping her entire body. Her organs hurt. Or is it her back? She can't differentiate between the pounding in her head, ears, chest, legs and stomach. Dysrhythmic, cacophonous, consuming. There is no comfort here. She tries to roll over, coax her cells back into a restful sleep but something triggers the gag reflex in the back of her throat. This is not good, this can not be good. If she breathes, just tries to focus on deep, cleansing breaths-no, wait, bad idea. Through the slits of her barely open eyelids she reads 5 am on the clock radio. Must Keep Sleeping. She's a kid all over again, imagining that this is all a bad dream; when she wakes up it will all be sunshine and fairytales, rainbows and kittens, and back to her old, active, healthy, take charge self. It hurts to roll over. Struggling to throw off the quilt then the duvet and finally the top s...