Thursday, August 09, 2007

The mold

Waking up in the middle of the night, my head feels like it's filled with dust in that overwhelming way like I'll never get the dust out, I can smell the mold the mold is killing me I have to do something about the mold but I'll never have enough energy because of the mold so how will I ever be able to do anything? I'm thinking about why the mold is so overwhelming, why I'm so wired in the middle of the night thinking about it, then I start to think about the mold in the sink in the basement where my father held me I mean pushed me inside the sink. Maybe it was the angle -- easier to break me open, easier to cover my mouth so no one would hear -- or maybe because the sink was invisible behind the bar in the rec room, that knotted pine bar in a room of someone else's creation, my parents only used it maybe once or twice to entertain like that time when they had a New Year's party when we first moved in and there were over a hundred guests, in his spare time my father would give me math problems I was excited about numbers.

Later, the room kept flooding the titles cracked and when it dried we locked the cats in there at night with the ping-pong table so they wouldn't wake us up, that huge room covering a third of the whole basement floor became the cats’ room, next door to my father's office which was also huge the cats tore up the furniture then it really became their room. But way before that, my body in that small space between sink and countertop mostly I remember the smell of all that mold my father's fingers over my nose covering my mouth no there were other smells too I didn't like those smells either.

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