After the accident, his body was displaced, in and out of time. Maybe it was to compensate for how hard it had to work to keep him alive. Maybe it was something to remind him of who he had lost when it happened, those who hadn’t got away with a collapsed lung and bruised ego. Like he needed reminding.
His sense of hearing has changed. Really changed. He hears things five seconds before they happen. The prognosis of the doctor reached his ears while the sunburned lips were still forming polite pleasantries. It’s messed him up, psychologically. Lives life in a perpetual state of slow motion, always anticipating things, his body is exhausted from constant tension. Imagine watching a movie where the soundtrack was five seconds ahead of the action – would it drive you crazy?
It happened two years ago. Since then it’s been a constant struggle, he’s a hermit, remaining in his apartment for weeks on end and starving if his more-than-generous landlady has her own life for more than a day. He’s feverish, with food or without, and hallucinates on a regular basis. Conjuring vivid visions of the source of the demonic squeaking he hears before fainting onto the lounge with screaming springs. The nurse suggested earplugs but he said insanity was preferable to silence. He used to play the drums. He tried to play them again but it’s immensely difficult.
A few months ago he started going on weekly runs. He bought a portable music player. The song changes before he decides which to choose but apart from that it’s almost like old times, the happy period before the wild swerving, the crushed metal; before the shattered, splattered windshield and hoarse cries torn from torn throats.
Today, he’s looking forward to pounding feet and bass. If he could see ahead of time he wouldn’t be so cheerful. He’s going to hear a girl scream and car tyres screech and his heart speeding as he sees her on the road in front of him and he runs towards her but it’s too late and he ends up in hospital beside her. He has a relapse and she’s fighting to survive and isn’t life so dreadfully circular?
