Everything does work. The neck that turns when I want to; the excellent appetite; the hand that doesn't tremble. And yet, it is a body that's far from the peak of its potential. Nowhere near stressed enough. The tone is 'soft pudge' throughout; capable of hauling a gas cylinder on short notice but visibly winded thereafter. Stairs do not stop it but daunts it. No aches and pains but the occasional gouty ankle. It is with this body that I go through my days. It affords a lot of happiness to me. But I am apprehensive. How long will this last? What could be my undoing? A random stroke? A clogged artery? A cell that doesn't belong where it is? Or will it be a catastrophic miscalculation? The steering wheel handled too lightly, the red light I did not see?
It is so wretched to be assured of death.
No comments:
Post a Comment