Dwell

Dwell. I bequeath me. Utterly, I do bequeath me. It has been time, time is all I have, but time has passed. Passed me by. Two years before I came stopping out of the dwelling. Not knowing where I was, who I was, just hunger. Hunger. Mirada saw me first. Came out of the blue, or was it red? She saw me scraping at the binds that tied me. She said:

"You, do you see me."

Puke came up. A fellable wall of puke.

"M-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-m...."

She wipe off the puke with a paper towel.

"You. You. Amass. Do you SEE ME?"

"Mi-mi-mi-m-m-Mirada."

"Well there you go, M i r a d a. Can you take your time and say it?"

"Mir...."

And then I was asleep again, with the hunger still inside me.


All that was left of me was a demoralize bit of brain stem with the cord attached, the left side of my earlobe. Everything else had to reworked from scratch. Everything else. Which is why it took two years. Which is why Mirada was questioning the retinal blood vessels where it connects to the Optic nerve. There had been many instances where the Retina did not blossom. But in mine. They did.

Now Mirada took a spit second to ramp up my file and knowing it was such she brough me home again. Home.