Electra’s dictionary & film noir/impairments have power

He says,

“the bullet is still in there,” in such a tone as one might say, ‘I had a shitty day’ with an accompanied resigned sigh 

something always switches for me in moments of crisis but it takes just the right shove to carry me over that threshold 

the shock of blood everywhere, the paleness of his complexion ….just to the welcome mat when first only I feel that lightheaded warning …. then the taste of fear when he says,

“I can’t reach it—“he suddenly moves to lean towards me extending a utility knife, “it’s in my shoulder—behind—you’re going to have to do it….” and looks up at me matter-of-fact with those eyes, now foggy with fatigue 

“Me? I’ll call 911–“ I reach for my phone

“Nej!” he shouts this and shocks me so much that I drop my phone. It lands loudly on the floor board wood plank

I stare at him

“No….” he says more calmly, “no one can know I’m here…. alive….”

This is when the switch occurs….

it is involuntary ….like spring loaded; a catapult when he says,

“But I might not be if an infection sets in….just need to get the bullet out— duva…. I’ll tell you what to do….”

It is always at that moment when it happens that I know ….I am invincible and all fears and emotions blow away, like stepping out of a costume and being aware of only ….energy and watch it all happen…. fingers, objects and just calculations 

It is a strange thing about this moment when you sit on the precipice of two awarenesses and I have heard it categorized as the common garden variety of disassociation but I don’t know but if it is, then maybe it is not well understood. Sometimes worlds need to be saved and not everyone in it notices what is happening in the furthest reaches of corners ….

“Use that needle ….” he tells me 

“There’s rubbing alcohol in the kit,” he tells me

I use it to cleanse the area with strips of fabric torn from the bottom of my shirt and then my hands

“There’s also a bottle of vodka,” he gestures with his head at the rucksack I only just notice by the door where I came in

I get the bag and bring it over,

“how long have you been here?” 

“What time is it?”

I show him my phone for the time 

“So I spent the night here….”

“How—?”

“Chopper.”

“Who?”

He shakes his head,

“I can’t tell you…. I’m surprised you didn’t hear—wake up the dogs or….”

“He has the television up pretty loud,” I hand him the vodka 

I watch him take a long swig, then look up at me with one brow raised,

“ready?”

invincible