I am somewhere close to the edge and  the last thing to go is the fear of death. that’s the fifth. kind of a bonus is being labeled batshit.

the nodule in my throat. that was the first to go. showed up on a catscan then never appeared again. asked me if I had two throats.  but the first thing that happened was I choked. the second thing that happened were my legs went numb. the third was my breath being stuck and the steady rise of water. 3:13. that’s the formula we are looking for. the audience is buried beneath a lake of ice until I need them again. wait back up there’s no order here. 

ok, the first thing to go was my mind. sit on the carpet and thank god. the second thing to go was my throat full of acid. quite literally caustic. the third thing to go was my breath. the audience is six feet under a snow covered bank.get on with then.

but I snap back to the British voice in my head. I will tell it as I please. there are three things that happen in order and there are thirteen deaths I see. 

the visions, the cabin with MS or the reaction to adrenaline perhaps and the pandemic with the robberies, the police on the swat team aiming at me. the suicidal thoughts. the jail. the mental hospital. the women ganging up. the bridge and car accident. the bombing. or it’s gas this time. there’s a tornado. a hurricane and a flood. the music and the seizure. the waves. first i have a near death experience but there’s so many i can’t keep track, and there’s an alligator somewhere. 

wait, no there’s a snake somewhere. they said it would either be a snake or an alligator and so wait, there’s more. I guess. it’s kind of hard when you realize all the women in your life turned out to be snakes but they didn’t kill me so you start looking for the alligator just in case.

“13 stories: the woman who saw her own death”

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