Nightglow Window

Past The Great Divide

There was a moment as the smoke went up into the air to the smell of burning flesh when my toes started twitching uncontrollably, like some beatnik hopped up on goof balls trying to snap to Coltrane at 78 speed.

This was after the "pinch and burn" -- a knavish euphemism -- of the hypodermic in that unthinkable spot. (Another rapid-toe-twitch moment, despite the calming voice of the doctor.)

But there was a painting -- crude, yes -- of a beach scene on the wall and close at hand. It looked like Laguna with palm tress and a flower-lined path, and I walked there in my mind for the twenty minutes it all took. Thank God for that painting and the images it created.

I was my typical swooner self when I tried to stand, and had to return to the table as the cold sweat ran, but I made it home okay after that.

Now I wade through the Vicodin blur, channel surfing. I finally fell across the fall line after all those months of procrastination. Now, despite the discomfort, it all wears the mask of completion -- of giddy relief.

Don't dwell upon the details and you can say that it almost wasn't too bad.