The light is dim. Something is flickering. Whatever the source, it casts out growing stretches of darkness into the mostly dim room.
My eyes strain. They can’t focus. Whatever the cause, it struggles to grasp clutches of information by the deepest darkest broom.
My head spins. There’s no coordination. Whatever the thought, my imagination magnifies and spins a yarn out of control filled with doom.
My nose twitches. It tickles inside. Whatever I breathe, it’s not enough to match my growing gloom.
My heart beats. The engine is going faster. Whatever the mood, my lungs suck in and push air into my demanding body’s inverted zoom.
My brain slows. The air hasn’t arrived. My mood, breathe, thoughts and eyes fail. Whatever it was, it was enough. But, whatever I needed, did not show. Not one last little glow. I go.
Written in Nepal, 2017.
ACTON28: AGAINST THE FLOW OF TRAFFIC 
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