“This is a Test”
Nov 11, 2019This is a test. This is a test of the emergency broadcast system. There is no emergency. There is only this broadcast. This broadcast comes to you courtesy of the twin brothers down the street who want nothing more in this life than to rule your world. And, will you let them rule your world? Of course you will. It’s the least you can do to make it seem like you’re taking a stand against them. Like you’re taking some stance in your miserable life. But why stop there? Why not march down to the end of the street and give those twins a piece of your mind? Good, now sit back down before you hurt your back some more. It’s hard getting out of bed every morning with that pain. That pain works its way from your lower back and shoots out in all directions. You feel the tingle in your toes. You feel the tingle in your fingertips. You feel more than a tingle in your scalp. That’s the one that has you worrying the most. All systems go. All systems fail. Don’t fail me yet, brain. We have some more work to do here.
What if I told you you would never be the same after you read this sentence? Well, you won’t. You will have changed in some subatomic way that I am too dumb to explain and you are too dumb to understand. And here we are. Here we are, champions of our own futures, wondering which tingle matters and which is just an excuse to not get out of bed.
The bed is warm every morning, even when she leaves it. She leaves to go down to the corner store for coffee and groceries. The coffee is always a bit too hot and the groceries a bit too moldy. The mold on the showerhead will take care of itself once she gets in the shower where the water will be a bit too hot. It turns her skin red, but it wakes her up. It wakes her from the nightmares she has every time I sleep in the bed next to her. I keep telling her I won’t sleep there, but she keeps insisting I do. It makes her feel safe at night. She doesn’t remember the tremors, she only feels them the next day. It doesn’t make me feel good. But I thank her for the coffee. I never leave the bed. There’s no reason to. If I could have a thousand wishes I’d give them all back. The pain subsides and I haven’t felt this good in years. She knows it. I see it in her face, the way her eyes sparkle when she tells me she’s running late again. I wish her good luck and she kisses me on the forehead as she runs out the door.