mh 8/11/98

the nape of her neck curved and tilted, for a moment the distant sun fit perfectly beside it under her chin. then lisps of hair fell like golden rays and all became blurred by Malachi’s migraine.

malachi tried to pick himself up, the girl didn’t help but stood over him holding the sun up. malachi felt the dirt beneath within him,,,, it was course and smooshy. shadows shapes shadows shapes secrete

steadily above him flashings of black pain light threw his head. who is the girl he wonders he wonders the girl is she . a stone is in malachi’s back, he tries to focus on that pain away from the migraine.

thunder above, no the girl’s voice malachi realizes. "You’re quiet…" it she whoever says. In his delusion malachi thinks she said "you’re quite…" he stretched his soul to hear the rest of her proclamation

but there was none. there was one girl. then no one. A cool wind blows, malachi knows it will soon be cold here on the shore of… the shore of…. why did that girl she leave me here… on this shore

like some shipwrecked sailor of yore malachi grimaced. there isn’t dirt on shores, he thinks, but sand this feels like dirt like dirt like dirty smooshy dirt not fine delicate sand in my writhing hand.

the water started slowly at first a bit dampness of the toes and creeped up malachi’s ankles. move damn me, he thinks, move get up!

get up! he shouts within… the wind overshadowed any slight audible

noise he might make.