Saturday, October 13, 2012


Someone pulls the plug. There's a sucking sound and even a small whirlpool dancing around the drain as everything surges toward the exit. The liquid level goes down down down and a frothy residue clings to the basin walls, evidence of boiling or stirring or something washed clean.

But then someone shouts in the other room. The pressure changes, the flow reverses, consciousness rushes back into me.

I wake up.