When we first moved into our house, the area around us was not yet developed so there were a lot of creatures. Lizards were the best. You stay in position long enough, they rustle out of the brush around you. The ones with stumps for tails meant they had done battle with a beast and survived. Sometimes that beast was me. I would catch them hold their tail, which they would leave behind, twitching, as they scurried away. I wondered if it hurt since the tails sometimes bled before lying still in disanimation. But probably the high of surviving makes that price insignificant. Sometimes I feel like I’m detaching my tail when someone grabs me with their world, just a little too tightly, and I slip away under their fingernails, disappearing. The detachment is the loss worth the relief of freedom.
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July 23rd, 2010 | Comments Off on

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