Tuesday 12 August 2014

The split.






It's that cracking sound that gets me going. That gets my attention. I look down. At my left thigh. A 20 cm long tear starting from just below my crotch. Brownish. Black in the middle. No smell. No liquid. No puss. No maggots. I reach down and with my right hand pull the skin slightly aside. To have a closer look. I've had dreams like this. Where I take my eyeballs out of the socket at bedtime, and place them on the bedstand. As you do with dentures. Only difference is you place it in water. Next day. Waking up. The eyeballs are dried out and upon touching them they smolder like layered onions. 

As I pull on it, the flesh opens wider. Down to the edge of my kneecap. The sound is like that of ripping up fabric. Then it stops. I put two fingers inside my thigh. No pain. It's deep. My fingers slip inside, the flesh like dried up wood but with a slight give. I press slightly and then I hear a muted snapping sound. The flesh losens from my thigh bone. The bone, yellow brown dusty fragile. With some remains of dried up flesh still attached to it.

 I pause for a few seconds. Pull my fingers out. I move myself closer to the end of the bed. Both feet planted on the floor. I use my arms to push my self to an upright position keeping the weight on my right foot. I stand like this for a minute maybe more. Then. I lean over and shift the weight over to my left side. Silence. And then a loud cracking of bone. I fall to my back and a fine white dust cloud of bone meal gently lingers in the air. I wonder how it will feel once this spreads up to my belly. And beyond. 
How long will it take.