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Hollow-Holler
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November 29, 2005 - 12:32
Yesterday. I left my house keys at work, and while my landlord was big enough to do the intial unlocking, all other exits and entrances had to be made through a window propped open. I said that there's no such thing as an accident this weekend, in jest, but I'm finding it an easy notion to dwell upon. It being in keeping with certain suspicions I harbor towards my undersenses. I didn't even have to look in my purse to know that my keys weren't there, I knew when I stepped off the bus that I wouldn't be able to open the door.
Last night I dreamt there was a shard of glass lodged in the skin of my throat, from the window above me that had shattered. The texture of my skin was like plucked raw chicken, but I knew this only from the sensation of somebody else's hand wiping at the blood. My own hands were immobile, in the way that numb from sleeping hands translate into paralyzed dream hands.
It was brutal.
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