Saturday, 6 June 2020

'Spinning' by Noa Covo

I spent hours trying to crack the eggs for my omelette that morning before I realized they were smooth rocks from the garden. I started complaining about it to the man outside my window before I saw that he was only a shirt dangling from a clothesline.

I wasn’t always so confused. I used to know how to solve puzzles and color between the lines, but these days the markers turn into forks and the lines become snakes and the little puzzle pieces crumble to dust and I am left spinning.

The doctor said there’s nothing wrong with me before becoming a mailbox with its mouth hanging open. The dandelions between the cracks told me I just needed to get some sleep, when I blew on them in response they turned to children and ran away. The neighbors think I’m crazy but they never tell me to my face, at night they whisper obscenities in my yard and when I shine a light on them they turn to trees. When I go online, the websites say that there are all sorts of pills that can help, but every time I try to take them they turn into roly-polies, unroll and crawl away. The sidewalk is conspiring against me; it turns into a river every time I try to cross it.

After breakfast, I went to the corner store to buy some stars for the sky because there were a few blank holes that needed filling in. I looked around at all the eyes inside and tried to determine which ones would reply to my question.

Excuse me, I said, do you have any stars?

Two of the eyes blinked. For a moment I could see the woman behind the counter before she turned into a potted plant.

No ma’am, she said, we don’t. She stared at me funny and I wondered if I was standing on the ceiling or wearing a cloud or any of the other things that I used to know were wrong. I didn’t appreciate the look so I turned around and walked out. When I looked back I saw it was not a store at all but rather the mouth of a lion. Oh well, I said, before taking another step and falling straight into the waiting river.

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