Monday, January 4, 2010

4

Whatever it is that is binding him is also moving him. He fights the instinct to panic. Involuntarily, he opens his mouth to scream, but he catches himself before a scream actually comes out. Although he has begun to be able to see the environment around himself, he still cannot see his own body -- his hands, his legs, his feet. His feet. They are not touching anything. Since coming into the dark, however long ago, he has been losing awareness of his feet. Increased awareness of everything else -- his elbows, his knees, the itch of his nose -- strange things that are not generally noticed. But the awareness he has of his feet has ebbed away, slowly, imperceptibly. He has taken for granted that they were on a surface, but he has forgotten about them. How can a person forget about his own feet? He remembers them now because nothing is supporting them. He remembers something because something he is remembering is no longer there. No ground. Perhaps he is flying. There is no wind. He becomes weak. He has forgotten whether he has slept recently. He begins sleeping now, although he is not aware of it. Dreams come to him.

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