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…
06
I lie in bed and know there’s something in the room with me. I’m only 8; I share the bedroom with my brother, but he sleeps obliviously in his bed. Something else is in here with us. Springing out of bed, I run to my parents’ bedroom and wake them, but can’t explain what’s wrong. It’s not just some free-floating anxiety that’s manifesting as this disembodied threat. There is something I’m feeling, that I’m sensing, that has taken form in my bedroom, but it’s just beyond my understanding and imagination to conceptualise and articulate. I sleep with my mother that night, while my dad sleeps in my bed. During the…