Dust

| 7 |

Have you ever seen a live wire? It moves in bursts of power, sparks of light threatening to set it's surroundings on fire.

Have you ever tried to control a live wire? Tried to touch it with your bare hands just to see if you can be a host to the energy?

The bells still ring during electric outages, not that any of you are asking, of course. Superstitions that prevent us from going to the garden when the doctor arrives. When he questions your affliction conveniently forget to mention that you know why there's a danger warning sign for electrocution on the stairway door. When he asks for a sample, feign giving it your best shot, missing the mark by a few thousand yards.

There's a fox trapped under a car that was heading for the hospital. The uncontrollable severed cable seemingly attracted to it, defying gravity as it stings through the air towards something else.
A yellow shade of orange drawing shapes, fed by the oxygen and adrenaline, pure chemical organism that once lived within me too.

See, all of us are made up of entire universes and statistical improbabilities. Had your mother not met your father, had their eyes not sparked a primal need of desire, had their organs not endured the grueling torture of carrying an entire foreign entity with such pitiful requirements to live on outside the womb. Had you not been here, right now, to see a switch flip and an entire microcosms set alive and ignite dozens of human wondering minds.

There's an animal in agony trapped under a car, because there was a snapped cable on the highway across from the emergency room. There's a person there too, trapped inside the car, seatbelt tightened too much, restricting their movement, stopping their left hand from reaching the nick on their jugular from the broken windshield.

Your doctor calls again, steady demand for you to engage, snap out of self-defensive isolation. Keep these private thoughts we share to yourself, nobody seems to know all those memories haven't happened yet.