By R. K. Emerson
The voice arrives through a cotton-filled funnel, “Please fasten your seat belts.” Briefly, I fear that I’m suffering from some sort of sonic engorgement. Every noise blares brighter than neon in my eardrums.
It started an hour ago, when I walked out of the house in the pouring rain with neither an umbrella nor a plan. The gentle muscles that shifted alongside my finger bones, turning the key into the ignition, didn’t feel like my own. Neither did the resolute voice asking for a ticket to somewhere, anywhere.
I’ve made a trade. My extremities aren’t mine anymore. Only my heart is.
Very good.
‘I fear that I’m suffering from some sort of sonic engorgement’. Great line within a tight but expansive journey.
Excellent story. Well done!