Words Slithering From Me

It happened this morning.

It started somewhat sluggishly, but quickly sped up as I rose from bed. The only explanation of sorts that I dare venture fort about this odd phenomena is that gravity, accusing its ill effects indiscriminately over all the elements in the universe played a practical joke on me taking advantage of my morning lethargy.

Without any notice, after a strident beep of the alarm clock, every single word I have in my brain, the ones I use regularly and the ones kept concealed in a corner of the right side of my brain, plummeted down from the center of my cerebral system to the back of my neck, through my spine and down my back.

Sitting down on the edge of my bed, wife sleeping soundly, one by one they sled and fell to my sides without me being able to do anything to stop this incidence,

And it wasn’t a dramatic fall.

It wasn’t a memorable or transcendent event. It was more of a circumstance. Things are usually a lot less painful and easily justifiable when they are circumstantial. The drop, unhurried and somewhat measured was, however, with a touch of dignity and almost with sophistication.

As I stood up, half asleep and numbed by the internal silent revolution taking place in me, words like “stuck,” “diligence,” and “nag” fell first like water from a cascade striking a rock on its way down, with the exception that verbs and articles found no rock on their way down, but joints, bones and ligaments.

A fraction of the words went down my left arm. In their journey they bordered the three scars on my elbow while bouncing due to the wrinkles in it. A whole bunch of them plummeted by my forearm until reaching my wrist, where they paused for a moment when noticing that the end of the way was near. Little by little they saturated the palm of my hand before projecting themselves very orderly taking turns using my fingers as trampolines.

The same took place on the right side of my body with a slight difference, while verbs and adverbs made their escape trough this side, adjectives and articles slipped very casually by the left. It was only 5:34am when I witnessed how each and every single one of my favorite words plunged into the air to a gracious fall until reaching the ground where they broke in individual letters when hitting the ceramic floor, turning the room into a gigantic bowl of alphabet soup.

I stood up feeling a tingling sensation throughout my body and arms. The rest of the words and expressions glided all the way down until reaching my ankles. Once below, with the proximity of the floor, the louder and empty sound that the words falling from high above were making became a barely audible toc sound originated by the words jumping out of my toes. The words diving from such a low altitude remained in one piece and scattered all over the room, hall and bathroom floor as I made my way to the shower.

As I was calculating the ideal temperature for my morning wash words kept tumbling over and exploding in miniature splash sounds. In this way the shower was soon saturated with consonants and loose vowels and even some complete words, like “cohesion” and “adhered,” who faithful to their meanings stayed in one piece.

I have to admit that I felt a bit of joy when I say words like “politics,” “tyranny” and “failure” go down the drain, and became worried when I saw “unconditional” trickle down my right arm mixed with the shampoo foam. I truly believe that it must have been the inevitable nature of conformity that kept me from grabbing that last word, same with others like “caring” or “friendship,” which was stuck on the edge of the drain practically the whole duration of my shower.

Once outside the shower I found the words that had fell on the floor all over. Tania, my wife, still asleep hadn’t noticed what had been going on during my morning, which was a good thing. I didn’t want her to become alarmed, especially after seeing Nini, our cat, battling in silence in the corner of the living room a couple of verbs that were floating about for some strange reason.

Before I knew it, every word and letter that had been on the floor was now levitating, reaching the ceiling very quick, after all I live in a small apartment, and since they had no other place to go they dissolved in the air, popping like bubbles.

I was almost certain that there wasn’t a single word left in me, that’s why I didn’t even bother to ask Tania if she wanted some coffee. I walked into the bedroom to get ready to go to work, although I did wondered how much help was I going to be without the means to communicate.

I was pondering about this when Nini approached me purring and holding a word between her teeth. I didn’t pay much attention to her as I though it was just another joke of an unusual morning, but I realized that the word she held in her teeth was “infinite.” She let go of the word and it didn’t fell, it floated and reached the height of my forehead. It started to shine in a warm incandescent glow that turned the bedroom into a comfortable place. Then I felt every single word, the ones I use quite regularly as well as the ones kept concealed somewhere in a corner of the right side of the brain, seeping back to me there, sitting on the edge of my bed one by one they all took their place back in my mind without me being able, or even wanting, to do anything about it.

“Good morning honey,” Tania said to me.
“Good morning sweetheart,” I answered. “Do you want some coffee?”