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Mark Cunningham
nightlightnight
Mel Nichols |
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| 5-7 a.m. | ||
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My father and my uncle on my mother's side still find this time
magical: reflections shift from inside the window panes to the
outside. And it is a
trick. Except for my open eyes, the universe is dark as in the inside
of a cow's stomach: photographs
show space black. Among the first things I learned are 1) my eyes
should never look directly at the sun; 2) the human skeleton is not
really made to stand upright, at least not on land; 3) when I stand up,
sensors in my neck detect the drop in blood pressure and, thinking my
body already wounded, relays signals to shoot adrenaline into my
system. I close my eyes again. 4) In dreams, I never see the sun.
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