He dragged himself through a pool of green slime. His feet heavy on the kitchen floor. Slime forming puddles behind him, witnesses to where he had been. That night it was full moon. Strange things would happen during full moon. This one was special, full moon in pisces. Potent, intense and magnifying whatever human emotion was present at least a thousandfold. Midwives and cops knew about it. Always, full moon would present itself with great extremes in human behaviour. Doubt could give birth to faith. Some moons stronger than others. Studying the phenomenon could give an excuse for the maladjusted to go overboard. If even the ‘normal’ act weird, where does that leave the ‘abnormal?’ Hence his slimy feet. His penetrating gaze. His gurgling bowels. His ulcerating gums. His weeping eyes. His death wish, together with many other wishes that cannot be committed to words even. He wondered about himself, yet again comparing his insides to everyone else outsides. Another full moon over and done, respite until the next one?
Hello Brigitte
Did you write that just before or after our conversation? Somehow it feels like you are writing about me.
Anyhow much recognition and I’m a pisces on top of that.
But no ulcerating gums.
I wrote it after, and it was not with you in mind. More about the whole experience that seems collective. Forgot that you are a pisces. Traditionally in India, they throw water and paint over each other during full moon in pisces.
Now, the new blog is definitely inspired by our talk.