Safety Not Guaranteed
Safety Not Guaranteed A jolting pulse rouses me from peaceful slumber. Dry, weary eyes crack open and guide me through the first waking moments. Fresh, hot morning light breaks through the window. I clear the cobwebs and fog of sleep with a few fluttering blinks. With limited success, I stumble to my feet and fumble legs into pants. A thick layer of fog still looms, stirring fears of the damaged, flickering filament behind my right eye. The day begins. The tether resumes. A tug of war unfolds between a hungry mind and a body ready to break free, while my eyes jockey to remain closed. They flip with fickle unpredictability between fuzzy and briefly focused. It’s off to work with a turn of the car key. Cue music that’s loud yet hopeful. The thump and boom enter my body, a joyful roar meant to quiet the fears rising within. Hope and grief crash into me at the same time. Away we go, safety not guaranteed. In one piece, physically, mentally, mostly, I arrive where I need to be. The ...