29
I wake to the sense I’m sitting up, like I’m shearing free of my physical self, but it doesn’t want to let me go. When I was a kid, I read a lot about parapsychology, about the soul, the spirit, whatever you want to call it, leaving the body during sleep. There were a few times I thought this happened – once, floating next to the ceiling; another time, being propelled toward the wall; and multiple times like my physical body was reverberating. I’ve also repeatedly felt what I’m going through now, like I’m trying to tear myself out of an adhesive cradle, but as much as the possibility exhilarates…
Twenty-Two
When I get home from work, there’s a small twig – about six inches long and boasting a handful of leaves – shoved into the mesh of the screen door. In Greek (and some other European cultures), this is a calling card – somebody wants me to know that they’ve visited. Only one person’s ever done this – IDIOT FRIEND, albeit years ago, before he was IDIOT FRIEND (although, no doubt, he was still an idiot). His work occasionally takes him through the area, and he’s randomly dropped by in the past. One time, he did exactly this – snap a twig to prop in the screen door. Obviously, he’s…