In The Dominion Of Perfect Sanity

Wake Down, Sweet Absence--

When Proserpina fell backward, she felt when her back smashed the garden gnome that it might be doing someone a solid. God forbid she would have to Swirl with one of those social blisters festering in her hippocampus. But the Fall? Fall categorized an impossibility of evasion she had not the wherewithal to fathom. So she allowed it to play the hectic chaotician to her unbound somnambulism.

Kurt passed this way. Nancy, too. The therapist tapped her pen on the ticker tape spiral notebook while Proserpina eyed her. The clinical professional saw a woman disassociating before her. Proserpina felt the chill Moon slight her spine as the Fall became Fell and hot liquid soil pounded her spine into their disparate vertebrae. A mirror bisected Proserpina's childhood into its two true selves: passive aggression and the lust for disinfectant spray.

Do therapists exist in stasis? They must, for Proserpina no longer witnessed motion in this faraway land woman. Goldfish lodged in the office wall went freeform as if it sensed its mistress's transformation into the dust state and spasmed in joy fin swishes. Proserpina grimaced. All's the same in the real. Radio scramble. Swirl glides everything in the universe to spite itself.

Perhaps she slipped in while Proserpina bellowed out? Could the Swirl Fell be rejection? Did Dream know of adultery, even against its hottest lover? Could it be. Questions were statements here if she was here. If was was. But reality, the word science was but a drip in the IV bag, residual accounts scraped along the bottom of the universal shoe. 

She snapped out of it in a shock. Surely the therapist noticed the head turn, eyes bulging to crystal clarity. 

"Is there something going on right now you'd like to share?" questioned the questioner, pen click.

Proserpina reached for the water red sand hourglass bottle and put it to numb lips. It tasted of primordial beaches. As the bottle left from her bottom lip, she expressed relief. "Nothing a good night's sleep can't solve." She felt ecstasy within. Swirl shifted into a new paradigm. Didn't it always? But the therapist glared. "I'm sorry. Did I miss a question?"

"No," therapist fazed in and out of whatever this is. "But I think you're disassociating more than when we last spoke, and this concerns me. Have you had any other stresses in life lately? Work. Home. Last time you said the blind date went poorly. How is your love life?"

Proserpina shook. Planets stampeded over her celestial corpus as the solar system bedspread wrinkled right out of the universe. The Sun exclaimed its lonesomeness in her ear and she wept. No one could approach Her for her impregnable heat consumed any would-be lovers. Proserpina wiped a tear from her dark matter cheek.

"Miss Gagner? You're crying. Here..." the therapist jumped up with an armament of tissues. "What happened. What's really going on with you?"

Proserpina giggle-cried. "I....I'm in love with my dreams is all."

She wiped cosmic eyes, and vanished.