The happy place

The snow lay heavy on the roof. The car looks like a misshapen igloo, and yet the ice around my heart has melted.

Once when I was young I hit the back of my head on the asphalt and was sent to the E.R. I only remember that on the way to the hospital, they put a thermometer up my asshole, and that it felt vaguely embarrassing. Then I got sick with a fever and hallucinated, but I turned out fine.

At least OK.

I did that on purpose, that with the head. Or rather we were waiting for the bus, sitting on a type of wooden guardrail, and the girls from my class, we were about nine or ten years old, started singing and I thought that they were embarrassing and wanted to disappear into the earth, but as that option was unavailable (how would that look?) instead I followed an impulse to slowly tip backwards, whereupon I hit the back of my head. The tipping motion was not as slow as I had envisioned it.

It’s an ironic situation that; In order to avoid an embarrassing situation, I ended up with a thermometer as previously described.

Mmmm and I could’ve also died.