Death and Rebirth at the Amusement Park

You wake up. The ever wakeful glow of the clock crashes in front of your eyes like the cymbal accented crescendo of some inappropriately early symphony. You feel a mixture of happiness and nerves. Happiness because it is Sunday and you've still got a few hours to sleep. Nerves because today could either work out very well, or fall to pieces on the floor. You wrestled a trembling yawn from your core. You return to Nod.

You wake up. You can't put it off any longer. Your jaw is acting up this morning, not a good sign. You shower and check your phone messages. Two people have canceled. Not a good sign. Shirt, check. Shorts and sandals, check. You ask yourself, "is today a hat day?". It is not. Bandanna, check. You pack your pockets full of the essentials, wallet, keys, and phone.

You find yourself in the car, driving down Riverside. You're early, you buy a McDonald's breakfast for the first time in several years. You don't even think about it, you simply realize you're leaving the drive-through lane after the fact. You feel an unexpected wave of disappointment and shame. You eat the food regardless, quickly, and throw away the wrapper so as to hide the evidence from Drey and Amanda.


Your faith in successful group dynamics is low. Committing yourself to a full day amongst company with no place to run and hide by yourself is terrifying. You worry about your headaches. You worry about the idiosyncrasies of the others. You begin to disintegrate. Your bones seize up and grind against one another. Your lungs collapse in on themselves and calcify. Your skin scales and flakes away from your muscles. The wind tussles at your hair as your component parts wrap and warp and spiral away from one another on the breeze.

You wake up. You find yourself passing through a metal detector. You have to go through twice because you've forgotten about Amanda's phone, in your pocket because she hasn't any.

You wake up. You've just defied gravity for the seventh time in one afternoon. Your mind and body fight over whose really in control of the equilibrium.

You find yourself at home. You take off your shoes and pop your jaw in and out of its socket a few times to relieve the pressure. You return to bed and recount the day.