I don't know why these thoughts occurred to me on so serene a night. Perhaps the advance of the year has awakened some atavistic urge, and some primitive part of my brain is attempting to tell me it is time to gorge, as a hedge against oncoming winter. When it rises at last, the shrunken crescent moon has the appearance of a slice of melon eaten to the rind. Any day now, I will hear the clatter of metal ladders in the apple orchard as the harvest begins. Squirrels already scamper through the diminished afternoons, cheeks bulging with acorns. It is the season when things are devoured or stored away, or fall into decay. I scratch at the spot between the first and second joints of my left index finger. A mosquito fetched a meal from there while I was outside. I can easily picture a hungry West Nile Virus under the itchy welt, now devouring my blood cells, one by one.
A Bit of Hypochondria
I don't know why these thoughts occurred to me on so serene a night. Perhaps the advance of the year has awakened some atavistic urge, and some primitive part of my brain is attempting to tell me it is time to gorge, as a hedge against oncoming winter. When it rises at last, the shrunken crescent moon has the appearance of a slice of melon eaten to the rind. Any day now, I will hear the clatter of metal ladders in the apple orchard as the harvest begins. Squirrels already scamper through the diminished afternoons, cheeks bulging with acorns. It is the season when things are devoured or stored away, or fall into decay. I scratch at the spot between the first and second joints of my left index finger. A mosquito fetched a meal from there while I was outside. I can easily picture a hungry West Nile Virus under the itchy welt, now devouring my blood cells, one by one.
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Reset Forty-Seven, Day Sixty-One
Odd how I've slipped imperceptibly into this pattern of multiple short naps each day instead of one or two longer sleeps, and spend part of each…
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Reset Forty-Seven, Day Sixty
Getting through the vague days with naps and snacks, not much caring that I'm not doing much, except for now and then scolding myself for being such…
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Reset Forty-Seven, Day Fifty-Nine
A few hours comatosery and some things that might have been dreams or daydreams, and here I am again wanting to sleep more. For Thursday's lunch I…
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