Semi-Daily Scribbles

Verdant, hilly terrain was coming into view. Lattice towers transporting 230 kilovolts of electricity made the cool mountain air hum. I smiled as I felt lift-off. In an instant I was soaring over the entire valley. I was finally getting up and out of here. That's when the scene changed. I was slammed back into the stuffy room I was trying to escape. I was curled up, immobile, on a hard, flat surface. I opened my eyes to see four white walls through the early morning darkness. My eyes were fogged over, and I tried to recall if I'd taken their medicine this time. I was having difficulty focusing on the door. I wanted to cross the room to get to it, but I was frozen in place, stuck to the mattress like blue-striped ticking. I had a neighbor once who always used to say there was more than one way to skin a cat. I wanted to move my body. Instead, something else stirred and stretched as a blue vapor leaked from my chest. I watched it rise upward, while at the same time I saw myself scrunched in a ball on the bed. This was the way out, and the sensation was energizing me with the same power that sang across the cables stretched high above that green countryside. All I had to do was let go and allow the lightness to do its work. My head bumped the ceiling as I took one last glance back down at my shell. It was all so very easy, the business of escaping. Then I remembered this was a one-way trip. I hadn't packed and I hadn't planned. The timing was wrong, too. I gritted my teeth as I repeated over and over: I'm not ready to leave, I'm not ready to leave, I'm not ready to leave. Dust motes flurried about my head and mildew filled my nostrils. I hit the rickety mattress frame hard. The dull throbbing between my eyes returned and I coughed just to hear the familiar rattling of my lungs.