From my collection: 29 Chinchillas

What a surprise to finally start to see on your inside, my friend.

I always thought that you only swallow me sometimes. Sundays and some other days like Tuesdays, and today. Woke up this morning with a clear warning from inside my skull: to the ocean bed we will dive, again. Me, ribbed inside my glistening black whale. But no, what was different about today?

Have you considered the possibility that your default position is inside Black’s belly, Werner? Always inside. Her rib cage is your private shrine. Your carapace. That may be the reason why the light startles you so and sometimes bruises your soul.

Aha …! So, Black, when we dive, next time, my memory of the light fading, I won’t want to light a fire in your belly again, like that other wooden boy, who postponed his joy until he became flesh and bone – with a wooden heart.

Stories inspire me to dive one more day with you into my good fight, but I often wonder – have I truly been broken?

***

The unused bicycle rusts next to its working cousin. Wind rushes through the stink-woods. A truck hums down the highway. Life-filled days bring dirty dishes. Birdsong accompanies rats and mice rushing to safety as my footsteps drum closer to our steamy, pungent compost pit – the size of a whale’s belly.

Credits: Thank you!

Cover image: Luc Tribolet on Unsplash

Whale sounds & music: Sousaphone on YouTube