Monday, July 21, 2014
I was struck by the notion of David Mitchell’s (not the comedian) attempt to create a seven tweet story. Each tweet the usual 140 characters or less, including spaces. Below is my own foray into the form, the Twitter version of a haiku-like constraint.
“Rainin’ in my heart”: The song bounced off the bone inside his skull in time to the trolley’s squeaking. The drug made it symphonic.
Blurry masked faces. Transparent tubes and steel. A whistling dive into darkness and the grim recall of a somersault into a sycamore’s trunk.
Observing from the ceiling. Heart out. New heart in. The surgeon’s reddening gloves. The robot’s precise blade.
His body welcoming the flesh and blood prosthesis. A sense of his memories being torn and fluttering.
Wife, children, house, dog, job, university, school, childhood, babyhood are shreds in a storm. New images emerging.
The delight of soil, beetles, worms, fermenting fruit. A leather muzzle. The sweet seduction of truffles.
Whistling back to consciousness. Identity returning. But something else – an overwhelming craving to root his nose deep into damp earth.