Wednesday, September 25, 2013

The tearing of tender flesh

I've discovered something far worse than my own insomnia: Rhys's.

I have somehow learned to make my way through the night in whatever isolated and disfigured state that I can find. I lie very still, like a pile of laundry.

The new guy is having little teeth come in, way in the back. "Come in" makes it sounds as if they are guests that are stopping by. They are ripping through his gums.

So, it is not just sleeplessness but also confusing pain and misery. There is much midnight wailing.

Rachel is angelic in this time. These nights pass with her walking about the house holding his sobbing body; a merciful vision, an apparition announced by howls, and shrieks, and many tears.