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October 4, 2006

Michele: To Spite My Brain

People who don't know what it's like to to be this way always think it would be cool.

It gets old quick. Especially when people always want to interview you and observe you and study you.

I got tired of being the missing link to someone's Nobel Prize quest.

Yes, I can feel colors. I can run my hands over a table and see a rainbow explode from it. My fingers have eyes.

No, I can't explain it to you.

But they were relentless.

So I cut off my hands.

But now, each time my wrists throb in pain, I hear music.

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Comments

A cruel twist at the end... delicious!

Posted by: Laurence Simon at October 4, 2006 8:23 PM · Permalink