the ginger didnt hang in suspension
he had to keep stirring his tea
stirstirstirstir sip
a little bit later stirstirstir sip or he wouldnt taste its heat and zest
he was convinced the ginger helped him sleep it overran the pain that forced him awake and to stretch his body out after a paltry two or three hours of sleep up at three in the morning or earlier moving through the lighted house for hours before he could turn them off and be treated to the new day bathed in the rising sun
these early mornings tempted him to go next door to his neighbours and goose his roosterCockadoodledo!
so other human beings might join him in the mornings darkness
misery loves company and he had an opportunity to embrace it and deem if it was a justified tenant because before he couldnt
No
he was better than that
so he left the rooster his neighbour and the neighbourhood unmolested
he was just a tad better than that though sorely tempted bitterly he amused himself with its thought as he gazed exhausted into the dark house before flipping the electricity to overhead fixtures
the rheumatologist checked insomnia on his list as he remarked his pain woke him
Excuse me doctor Im not describing insomnia
the physician curtly asked him if he was telling him his business(he was irked the physician referred to his health as the doctors business)(a tete-a-tete)
Business No
Im telling you Ive resided in my body for fifty years I cant assume you might possibly know my body better than me
the rheumatologist darkened the X he placed beside insomnia
it joined the X beside joint pain without comment and concluded the doctors list where the other symptoms were un-Xed because they didnt present
then leaning back the doctor pronounced he exhibited classic symptoms of rheumatoid arthritis
Or as we prefer RA
Classichuh
Youll excuse me for noticing doctor but youve marked only two symptoms of wha sixteen
And doin the math if yadont mind Ill do the calculations they aint your specialty we have two of sixteen as you say classic symptoms
By my reckonin sixteen into forty two eight eighty
sixteen into eighty five What we have is a mere twelve and a half percent
If we flop the statistics twelve and a half pro we have eightyseven and a half con theyre not convincing
Im not convinced
I assume you sought me out for my medical specialty my years of experience
Those credentials should convince you
Your years of experience are with others peoples bodies
Not mine
Then why did you make this appointment
I made this appointment to have a frank discussion regarding my health with a professional
Fine Ive given you my opinion RA
Doc everyones entitled to their opinion however you must admit that statistically your opinion is questionable Id expect youd have animosity towards such a low probability
I work in health not probability
Okay lets put it another face on itId have no problem putting a revolver to my head play a game of Russian roulette pull the trigger with twelve and a half percent odds against me
And Id take my odds enthusiastically when compared to your eightseven and a half percentor nearly nine out of ten
Would you put a revolver in your mouth – Id want you to do it right – and pull the trigger with your odds
This is absurd
No Supposition
We went off your professional checklist To make matter worse I disagreed with you checking off insomnia
Therefore one of sixteen was struck Thats not seven percent doc Not seven percent
I wont answer suppositions
You wanna tell me what the hells the matter with considering a supposition a possibility
People act as if they entertain a supposition its punishable like having their nuts put in a vise and it twisted Tits in a vise Absurd What can possibly be absurd in the realm of medicine People Patients They defy expectation all the time They exceed and fail
Were not finely-engineered and machined German and Italian motorcars
Our disconnects arent as readily apparent as cars are to trained mechanics
You act like youre fingering Lincoln logs taking em out of their tube one at a time scrutinizing them singularly rather than just upending the lot and dumping all the pieces out onto the floor at once and see recognise in their tumbled heap their myriad of possibilities
Then sort them out from there
Its open season no holds barred
I think your fastidiousness possibly mars your perception Diminishes your objectivity
I have never suffered insomnia
Though Ive drank black coffee too late into the evening and paid for it
My opinion is you have RA
the ginger wouldnt hang in suspension
it was unlike the suspense that still piqued him
the two women he came upon in the woods in Luxembourg Ardennes near Lac de la Haute-Sure
they endured to this day he was mesmerised he watched them turn lazily in the slowing vortex of his stirred tea
perhaps his compass was skittish Truth North tired of his begging tired of him sticking It with its magnetic point
the very thorough innkeeper noting the puny rucksack slung over his shoulder eyeing the late morning hour on the elaborate carved longcase clock encouraged him
Nach Westen nach Westen (West) Sechsundzwanzig (26) der kilometers Sechzehn meilen (16 miles)
a kind accidental tourist standing in the broad rustic foyer near him translated
his German wasnt good
he thanked them for their kindness and turning to the innkeeper he said Vielen Dank mein Herr
the innkeeper nodded and restlessly repeated Nach Westen Sechsundzwazig der kilometers Nach Westen
the tourist said Ardennes is an Old World forest It is filled with Old World things
What do you mean
I mean he means you ought to be going so youre not caught in the forest in the night
A bit ominous dont you think
I shouldnt want to be lost in the woods at night
and it was with those appeals their swath blush those broad strokes that he departed and entered Ardennes
the warm sun gave him a departing kiss on his back which cooled and briefly shivered his spine
in deepening shadows the air temperature fell
the trail he followed was slender and as it hadnt rained the earth was worked to a talcum
running off its sides were thin spidertrails made by wildlife
he was arduously tempted to see what the wild things saw
perhaps if he had thought things through better and left earlier perhaps but his fascinating burden as he walked was the utterness of the wild forest
its vivifying absence of humankind
it was easy to imagine despite knowing otherwise that where he stepped he was the first man ever to have stepped there
a primalness invaded him and upset him
he didnt dare stop walking moving
he felt if he did hed take root
not that he would mind
his pace was unhurried
he figured walking as he was hed be shy of four miles in an hour against the sixteen miles he was advised of if he didnt misstep need to backtrack hed arrive in the next hamlet late afternoon with sun easily remaining
that he was accompanied only by the hush and creak of ancient limbs moving overhead he was mesmerised as he walked
he guessed he was in two hours
he came to a dusky shaded bend in the path which curved to his left
his head was down albeit briefly
he saw he was at the beginning an incline
raising his head at its crest he saw two women standing on the path facing each other
over the ones shoulder whose back was to him the second woman slightly higher on the path seemed dressed in exactly the same garb as the first woman who he could easily made out
she who faced him stopped talking
the woman whose back was to him shifted slightly as if alerted by his approach either by the second woman words and her quit
the second woman cautiously backed away and as she stepped he lost her behind the first womans figure
he never saw her again caught up with her on the path or saw any evidence of her walking ahead of him
he looked hard at the path for any telltale footprints leather soles for any kind of disturbance
it was if no one walked ahead of him not recently
as he continued approaching the first woman held her back to him
he was flummoxed that she hadnt turned to acknowledge him since she was keenly aware of his presence small starts like a birds in her shoulders arms though not fearful
her clothing was handstitched made of rude cloth a hooded cloak to her knees it gathered at her throat and flowed down unformed her gown beneath it was black and heavy and unadorned
she seemed otherworldly possessing an ease a naturalness a confounding fearlessness which given their place deep in the forest provoked his own attentiveness he found odd
where she stood seemed oddly warpedno oddly repeating as if reflected in a mirror
her double somehow having be able to move off untethered while all else seemed held or captured the trees the small plants and shrubs crowding the hem of her garb like anxious children their fingers imploring her pulling at her clothing the talcum of the path itself stirred near beside her and also up the path across from it reflecting
approaching within a rod of her his footsteps fell mute the path sighed she turned about over her left and passing him scarcely nodded
he never saw her face
it was buried in a black scarf that crossed the bridge of her nose
he saw only her eyes as she laid hers briefly on his
passing shoulder to shoulder she was then suddenly at his back walking noiselessly from whence he came
and the dank cloistered atmosphere he entered wavered and trembled like radiation
the trees and plants retracted and from somewhere or nowhere there seemed almost an audible breathing a hiss receding to echo of someone hiding
or the forest itself
to his left there was a shimmer from a dark hole in the crown of a tree a pale limegreen lighter than the surrounding leaves
the trees crown was broken by smaller tree felled by storm and laid propped-up suspended a rotting crumble like a hapless drunk collapsed in a railway car too crowded for anyone to push them off
where it slashed the canopy it pointed at the flickering limegreenness
he stopped to look and watched and wondered if it was natural or unnatural
there was a tension between it and he an anxiousness in his neck and shoulders a footplay as if legs without direction would flee
and watching and watching the forests fell more silent in suspense
suddenly it shot from the darkened gap like a bolt of atoms and slinged past his face to and pulled up before a flowered branch he did not see its petals rubyred petite
a hummingbird it fed it didnt query him of its shoulder it ignored him and quaffed and in and out and quaffed and in and around to another and another an another
and in the same kind of hurtle it reared then flung itself back to its perch in the rented tree
pale flickering limegreenness
unnatural
it ran at him he decided to defend its foodstuff
and standing now his feet shifted undirected pointing back up the path insisting urging before him there was a groan a relieved branch a fixed-shadow hurtling at his head
he dropped as he dropped in the war at any provocation some slapstick some murderous
and stone-dropped an owls breast suspended between a sixfoot wingspan creased the silver air above his face against the crossed-branch and thatched ceiling and tickled humoured leaves
it happened and didnt and the owl didnt wheel and kept on
its mistake between it and he
a ridiculous attack
unapologetic
ridiculous
as the adamant rheumatologist
he stirred his tea
the spoon softly grazing and clattering at the sides of his cup distracting him like the sound of dry blown leaves brittle pine needles or clods of soft earth dislodged and falling from the hooves or paws of woodland creatures stealing afoot without the surreal luxury of two-footed beasts stomping and unafraid of becoming part of the foodchain the unestimatable entitlement rarely usurped by hungry predators who likely recognise their awful scent but figure Ohwhaddahell
frail hands butched teeth
no match for honed claws fangs no conscience and their utilities perfected over the Ages
the ginger didnt hang in suspension
1234,
Friday, 5 8. 16
1018, Day-between-Two-Ts, 17 8.
16
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