She had barely had time to blink or register what it was before it hit her hard, square in the middle of her forehead. First she thought it was pain – but with time it was like a bubbling feeling inside. What’s the word? Effervescent, isn’t it? Like dirty yellow Sulphuric acid. Or was it Nitric acid? Wait, wasn’t Nitric acid green? Why couldn’t she remember? There was something wrong with her head - couldn’t think straight. And the loud and constant blaring from the speakers didn’t help either. But somehow instead of even trying to concentrate, she readily gave up and moved on to the next thought quite enjoying this sudden loss of control.
She tried lifting her hand to touch her forehead but flung her arm at a nice little carefree 180 degrees accidentally hitting something metal. Awww – that should’ve hurt. But wait a second – that wasn’t pain. It was a warm numb warm feeling around her palm. Quite like as if she was holding onto a warm cup of coffee. She smiled at the thought. Coffee would be good. The weather did feel a little cold. The thought of warmth passed an unexpected chill down her spine. As a child she believed unusual chills were signs of spirits passing by. Funny, what children believe in; and funnier, how our minds lose the power to be receptive as we grow older and wiser. The thought made her laugh out loud – she didn’t see it coming and it startled her that she laughed at something so factual. And that made her laugh again. It kept happening for a bit – laughing, stopping to think and then laughing again. Until the seemingly unstable mind finally rested on one thought – the story of the spirits. She wondered if the smoke she saw around was really her soul leaving. In reality, it was this fear that had brought the laughter to a deadening silence. After a moment, (or was it really minutes?), of thinking she decided it couldn’t be that – souls don’t smell burnt – and she could definitely smell something burning or something like it, she couldn’t be bothered about the details. But then what was all of this?
“Do you want another shot?”
“Do I what?”
“Another drink – do you want one?”
She tried lifting her hand to touch her forehead but flung her arm at a nice little carefree 180 degrees accidentally hitting something metal. Awww – that should’ve hurt. But wait a second – that wasn’t pain. It was a warm numb warm feeling around her palm. Quite like as if she was holding onto a warm cup of coffee. She smiled at the thought. Coffee would be good. The weather did feel a little cold. The thought of warmth passed an unexpected chill down her spine. As a child she believed unusual chills were signs of spirits passing by. Funny, what children believe in; and funnier, how our minds lose the power to be receptive as we grow older and wiser. The thought made her laugh out loud – she didn’t see it coming and it startled her that she laughed at something so factual. And that made her laugh again. It kept happening for a bit – laughing, stopping to think and then laughing again. Until the seemingly unstable mind finally rested on one thought – the story of the spirits. She wondered if the smoke she saw around was really her soul leaving. In reality, it was this fear that had brought the laughter to a deadening silence. After a moment, (or was it really minutes?), of thinking she decided it couldn’t be that – souls don’t smell burnt – and she could definitely smell something burning or something like it, she couldn’t be bothered about the details. But then what was all of this?
“Do you want another shot?”
“Do I what?”
“Another drink – do you want one?”
“A shot – no I don’t. But I do want something else, maybe something like the way I feel now – shaken not stirred.”
