Sunday, January 25, 2009

Twinge

Sitting back in a right angled chair, the glare from the sun ignites my hand, and in a flare despair streams over me. I cannot breathe!
Laughter is rare in this place, and the air is bearing echoes while still remaining bare. A woman's masked, ghastly face is fair compared to the rules she shares:

"This will only hurt for a moment, so let me help ease the pain. You'd rather take the twinge, the throe. Your mouth will bleed, you know this. It's what you're paying for, so take the throe and twinge."

I have grown weak as my calm succumbs.
I have tried to speak, but my gum is numb.

The rush does not bore me, but it's not sanatory to such preparatory commands. It seems I am ignoring what this sedative is curing.
I hear conversations which I fear are hallucinations; a mere indication that this isn't working, but she says to me:

"This will only hurt for another moment, so let me help ease the pain. You'd rather take the twinge, the throe. Your body will sleep, you know this. It's what you're waiting for, so take the throe and twinge."

I have grown weak as my calm succumbs.
I have tried to speak, but my mind is numb.

- Alexander McCurdy

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

hmm ... the dentist?
you make it sound a good deal more interesting than i've ever experienced.



~hayley

Everything Intangible said...

how do you sit back in a right angled chair?

Alex McCurdy said...

lawlz, manda.
like when they push the button thingy ma jiggy and it mechanically moves back and stuff. kinda like a car seat. eh?