I open my eyes


I close my eyes

When I opened my eyes

When I awoke

I believe I am awake

I believe I am awoke


When I awoke I opened my eyes

And all I could see was white

The white made me wonder if I had gone blind

But that surely is a dark colour, blindness.

I could see everything as one pale flatness.

I moved my eyes, I thought,

I thought I moved my eyes

trying to make out a shape

But all I could see was white. And a texture maybe. A paleness and a tiny undulating texture, like the shell of an egg or the edge of something.

I lay there.


I lie here, trying to feel my body. Testing, testing, testing to see if my body was here, with me, in the white. All the while. I sent messages. I sent electrical messages. I tried to feel my arms and my legs. And I could. What relief! I could feel them.


My limbs ached with a muscle memory. The memory of some great and unusual effort and I remembered the chase and I remembered the terrible noise of my blood in my ears.

Blood. In my ears.

I think I remembered a furious chase that pushed my body along a trajectory of which I was not in control. The chase. The chase. The chase. Looping over and over. Along a trajectory.


To be honest, the white blankness of my vision was a pleasant rest for my eyes.

For my body too.

The pale texture, as I tried to focus my vision on the nothingness, the pale texture started to undulate and define itself into a kind of space.

The white was a space that my body appeared to occupy entirely.

Its edges could be felt if I stretched a miniscule muscle in any direction.

My breathing was slow. I was beginning to relax. This is how it feels to relax.

I felt heavy and light at the same time. I felt as if I was floating in space. I felt as if I was buried, deep underground.

I closed my eyes. Memories of the chase, of panic and shocking speed rushed into my mind. I opened my eyes and welcomed the white.

I found I could move, a little. I moved my left arm a little and found that it had drifted right up above my head. I felt around and my head was covered in soft, downy hair. My nose was itchy and my teeth tickled.

At least I have a head I thought. At least I have a head.

I lie still. My eyes are open. They see only the white. I roll my eyes around in their sockets and the white offers no resistance.

I close my eyes. I open my eyes. I close my eyes. I open my eyes. I close my eyes. I open my eyes. I close my eyes. I open my eyes.

I feel that I am floating in space. I feel that I am buried deep underground. I feel that the lid is on. I cannot hear. Or maybe I hear nothing.

I wonder why I am alone, though I am grateful for it. It is unusual to be alone these days, it can be very expensive.

When I was a child, I was hypnotised by my dentist.

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