rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,


At last a night of cool breezes, and the stars floating among vague oceanic vapors. Torpid air grows first merely languid, then almost playful. The sound of rustling leaves recurs, and the crickets fall silent. On my window sill, I find a victim of the day's heat- a desiccated crane fly. The cooling undoubtedly came too late for other creatures as well. Being among the survivors, I allow myself to enjoy the relief nevertheless. Some later week could bring worse.

A further yanking of the neck will take place this afternoon at four o'clock. I'd thought that Tuesday's appointment would be the last for a week, but it turns out that it will be today. Then I'm stuck with whatever condition I've got for seven days. There might be much taking of pain killers during the next week, and a continued diet of mushy and thinly sliced soft things. I hope, at the very least, for a reduction in the chronic nausea I've been feeling. But, again, I don't get a choice. Stupid neck bones. I want to be a fish.

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