no guide…
I head for the nearest
mirage
My balance is getting worse. It’s one a.m. and I’m in a Walgreens’ parking lot cleaning out my car. Lost my father and girlfriend in one fell swoop two days ago. Have been wandering around in a daze ever since, behaving irrationally.
Bought this cell phone for no reason. I’m stopped by the side of the highway to figure it out. A patrol car pulls up behind me. My balance issues weigh against me in the field sobriety test. They take me into custody, handcuff me to a bench, administer a blood test (test comes back negative for alcohol and drugs), and release me.
I descend into fog. They’re detaining me again. This time, to the emergency room for evaluation and a blood transfusion before releasing me once more.
My credit cards aren’t working since I’ve traveled halfway across the country without telling my bank. Somehow, I buy gas at the pump, but when I go inside to buy a Coke and some Fritos, the transaction fails. This causes all kinds of confusion. I’m ejected from the convenience store, and now I think I’ve discovered a new blood-pressure test.
ripples on the stream . . .
each breath another moment
flowing by
Now the police have confronted me again.
“I’m just getting rid of some trash, officer. I’m on my way to Maryland.”
Another failed field sobriety test. I’m taken to the hospital. They put me on a stretcher and leave me in a hallway. It’s a noisy environment, lots of activity. I start screaming. That lands me in a psych hospital. I decide to run for president.
First published in Contemporary Haibun Online