My face distorted in the waves of the puddle below me. A true complexion for my disposition. A state of flesh separating from bone, muddied sobs ebb and flow upon a fractured shore. Perception guided by medium disguises the beholder.

The retching comes first and then my body is seized by uncontrollable sobbing. The lacerations within my throat deepen as I cough up more of the bile. Not all comes out. Some poison has to stay and fester before I can muster enough courage to down some more.

Before I used to tear at my arms and scoop out my gums with a bent fork and a paperclip. My coworkers started noticing the bloodspots on my mask, so this has become my compromise.

My vision starts to vibrate as my whole body signals another dump. Fuck, there’s nothing left. This is when the convulsing starts. An embarrassing combination of burps, retching, coughs, sobs, and farts ensue. My brain tries desperately to make sense of the situation and releases chemicals that stimulate a warm feeling and a soft voice that says:

“You’re going to be fine.”

This is what I crave. Sometimes it’s my mothers’ voice, sometimes it’s the camgirl I follow. Always a familiar voice saying that phrase that would never grace their lips. The feeling only lasts a moment when my body takes the lead, and increases my temperature until I am drenched in sweat lying in the filth from the spilled bucket, seizing, burping, crying, sometimes shitting and pass out.

Obviously, I have never won this game. My eyelids open, and my body starts their victory march.

Starting at my head, they ring church bells to commence the celebration. My lungs bellow their horns all the way through my shattered throat, climaxing in a groan followed by an encore of wheezing. My diaphragm beats their war drums keeping tempo with the war march in my stomach. My limbs light fireworks along my skin.

At this point in the journey I am at a loss for ends; but I remember when it began.

Tina started talking about her weekend to me. Unprompted, obviously. I remained scanning the FOH occasionally observing her stare at the ground while she continued fucking talking. Her fuzzed tone abruptly ended in an uptilt.

“Yeah, it’s my Wednesday”

Her gaze shot up in my direction and intersected mine as I was appraising the rot on one of our booths. I met her eyes and was surprised to see hers resemble that of a dying dog. If it wasn’t for the mask, I could have sworn her lips were trembling. Before I could utter a ‘what’s up?’ she turned heel and ran to the back.

My mouth began salivating like right before you eat something sour. I stood there for what must have been an hour, because after I saw the hi-beams of a Jeep, my manager told me to clock out.

Right after punching out my boss said, “You need to take a few days off?”

“Who will cover my shifts?”

“Don’t worry about it,” and pats me on the back before I leave.

I never brought a backpack or anything so I could avoid the owner and the staff lockers.

Once I start my car I am instantly assaulted with the screeches of my radio in between stations. Turning it off, I remember that I was having a hard time staying awake on the drive to work.

I thought everyone was the same. Every ‘Good mornin’!’ an acknowledgement of existence, every word taking up space, every instance of eye contact followed with a flood of fantasies of their face skin melting off in a pit of flames.

I’m an empathetic person.

I move out of the way when someone is in front of me, I restock the lettuce and chips when they’re running low, I run the queso pans under water before giving them to the dishwasher. I treat people how I would like to be treated.

But this cunt, with her snitch eyes and competent tone (even when her actions say otherwise) gets me on suspension? The term doesn’t exist, but it’s accurate. They know I’m too fucking lazy to call tech support and get the password I forgot, so I can log-on and request time off. They effectively fired me. My boss was practically smiling when he delivered the sentence.

I am awakened by my spiteful reverie by car horn, cheap shit minivan turning right, black faggot Escalade turning left, red light, fuck, T-bone prediction, turn into oncoming traffic, blueberry Nissan (somehow hippie lady, later fifties; fear, and hate filled eyes behind beaded frames), streetlight camera flash, swerve/drift into oncoming left turn lane, snubbing black Volvo (buzz cut, tinted shades; fuck him), and accelerating straight behind oblivious tow truck.

Heart pounding, eyes watery I examine the rearview to see if anyone who saw that is behind me. With the coast clear, I flip the radio back on, and tailgate the tow truck all the way home.

##