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Monday, January 16, 2006


I'm lying in bed and a sensation of discomfort grows stronger. Rolling onto my back I look down to see a splinter of solid wood lodged into my chest, close to the heart. It's shaped almost as a hook and is the same thickness as a pinkie finger. Confused and disturbed by being pierced with this peculiar splinter in such a delicate place, my fingers itch to remove it. An attempt to do so only worsens the dull ache. I notice upon closer inspection that my skin appears to have merged and wrapped itself over the splinter, coating the pointy end of it with a coarse surface. After carefully peeling away the top layer I stand up to ready myself, grasp it once more and yank hard.

A feeling of emptiness spreads where the discomfort so recently pounded. The splinter in my hand is hollow on the inside, blood dripping from it when turned over. Mesmerized, I calmly stare, forgetting how serious an injury it gave me.

Suddenly something liquid wells in my throat, violently filling up all empty space, and cascades of blood crashes to the ground as I open my mouth. Realizing that the splinter acted as a barrier, and removing it ripped open the inside once more, I press at the oozing wound with my hand.

The door is open to the hallway and sounds from a tv is playing in the distance. Standing at the doorway, hand still pressed firmly over the wound, I pause.

My body is calm. Stillness envelops me in a warm embrace. And I know there's nothing to be afraid of.

I close my eyes and awaken.


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