Saturday, September 24, 2016


The liquid morphine patched together vivid images. The bevy of crickets outside sounded like a worn fan belt on the minivan from up the road. Images from the ER lingered; the pain had floated away. This bout of tonsillitis had been severe, but she got to keep them. One more, though, the doctor said, and out they go. This is really unusual at your age. Callie was grateful to be home. The real blended with the fantastical as the medicine deepened its hold. The veil between spheres of existence thinned, revealing strange figures interacting in their own worlds, unaware of her presence. Sounds of the neighborhood anchored her to her own world. If only I’d remember these visions later. A deep, healing sleep followed.