10
I dream that I’m running. I don’t know where, but I am running. The freedom’s the first thing I feel. Then the motion. There’s no jarring as my feet hit the ground, no jostling of my body as it accommodates every stride, no burning in my throat and lungs as I gulp in air. My body’s light but strong, an engine that has neither known effort nor duress. I am one with every motion. My heart may be pumping euphoria into every cell. I could be made just for this. Nothing else matters. The world whizzes by, streams of empty landscape that could exist just for me, just for me…
Five
When I was sixteen I broke my right arm playing football. I was flipped in midair as I leaped to spoil a certain mark. Complications meant I needed plates inserted. Then there was significant nerve damage – I couldn’t feel the lower half of my right hand, the ring finger, and small finger. I had to wear a brace around my hand that forced my fingers to flex when the rest of the hand flexed. Once I started feeling again, the brace bit excruciatingly into my right hand, particularly my palm. Well, that’s the way it felt thanks to the damage. I started wearing a fingerless glove – the genesis…