Tick, tick, tick… That’s not a clock; it’s me counting the crawly monsters (6!) on me after my unplanned walk today. I thought I was following this nice new path at our local middle school, but somehow I ended up wading through acres of thick, hummocky, fields. Tick heaven. When I finally emerged onto pavement, I had no idea which road I was on or which direction to go. This is my neighborhood. I like to think of myself as an intelligent being. But panicky mayhem scrambles my receptors. Disorientation is powerfully unsettling. I’m spatially adrift, stuck in a nightmare vortex. I turned the wrong way, checked myself on Google, and corrected. Once I’d resolved my location, my brain’s chaotic malfunctioning ceased. Everything clicked into place. I was back. I’ve read about far worse cases of sense-of-direction-challenged folks, but even mild disorientation is a little like a visit to the Twilight Zone. My 60th year in 60,000 words Day 280: 152 words, TOTAL = 47,101; 12,899 remaining
0 Comments
Your comment will be posted after it is approved.
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorRobin Clifford Wood is an award-winning author, poet, and writing teacher. She lives in central Maine with her husband, loves to be outdoors, and enjoys ever-expanding horizons through her children, grandchildren, and granddogs. Archives
October 2024
Categories |
Proudly powered by Weebly