#1

I can sense the countdown. Something’s going to happen. I can feel its pulse; it’s going to explode into life anytime now. I can feel it breathing quietly under the table, next door; below the calender in the living room; in the pockets of my knapsack. And this terribly uncanny feeling isn’t here for the first time. It has been and the bad news is it’s hardly ever wrong. I have a friend called Intuition. She has things to tell me.

Cinderella.
The thought gives me a pang somewhere.
And an avalanche of old rusted memories. My mind’s racing for anything effective of stimulating my axons and dendrons enough, so to help me realize the impact of this shocking discovery. I can erupt anytime, now.

Two years six months. Is she back? Was she dead? What’s going on?

There’s an irony, somewhere, and I won’t elaborate, thank you very much.