Member-only story
To stub a toe
against uneven cobblestones;
to plant a foot awkwardly at the base of the steps,
flail, grasp for the handrail,
panicked, tipping moment,
regain balance,
sigh relief,
steady.
To feel the gouging pinpricks of a sleeping leg
as it awakens,
to skip
stumble
spin,
tap one’s foot in rhythm,
press a gas pedal,
feel the wet grass between
toes in springtime
to dip a foot into icy water
recoil in shock,
feel the shiver shake straight toes to neck.
You think all these thoughts
in neverending hours
as you lay paralyzed
beside the fountain,
praying for an angel —
as you lay frozen in the hospital bed
after the accident —
as you lay still and forgotten
in a dark corner
of a house overlooked
by a forgetful world
