Gaps, patches and in-betweens

Millions of tiny, damp footsteps on a stampede coming towards me,  slipping through holes in the tin roof.  The w aterfall is in my room. I watch the uneven shower gather into a puddle and decide to creep toward my mattress, bed sheet, and blanket. I listen as my body lies on sponge. It is louder at night, like full-on stereo surround sound. But that's only because the world at night is dark, where everything seems more...intense and in slow motion. My tiny room seems caught in a photograph, frozen l ike a suspended moment in the movies, like receiving bad news. Only time moves and the damp spot of water soaking the mattress some more. The downpour is constant, hypnotic. When it changes tempo, it is only changing its direction.  I remain in my sponge. The sky and sea can only gather so much water. The winds howl around in confusion. The footsteps are no longer tiny but of giants slipping on the roof. The sky is angrier with pent-up heat, stoked b...

I find myself standing in the middle of the road facing a barrier of mahogany trees. To my left is a welcoming blanket of small yellow leaves on the ground waiting for the others to fall from the tree.  To my right, I see two paths, one with green wild grass taller than me and the other one, a dead end. Above are thin brush strokes against a canvas so blue that for a minute I thought I hear waves. The colors of reality scream at me as if I've lived in black and white, muted dreams all along until The scent stung my nostrils like everything we put on our bodies to mask our humanity all in one moment spat out by a blob that was holding it all in for 42 years. The smell of leaves, freshly cut grass and sunlight on hair and skin burns. I see red. Bright, enveloping, causing me to palpitate in fear of the living. "I am an X in an indeterminate equation. And that X is the rock upon which I stand." - Mario Puzo