let’s start with sunset last night, shall we? i fell down earlier this week, missing the last step of several & in that split-second of knowing i was going down as my foot searched for concrete, but instead found only air, as they say ‘my life passed briefly in front of my eyes’. now mind you, not all of my life (there’s too much to cram into less than a second of conscious thought,) but enough has filtered through the pain this week as my body heals itself (you should see the bruises, holey moley) to make an impression (like tombstone rubbings.)
greeted by a milky dawn (but later than dawn, more like post-dawn, but not yet morning, what’s the word, what’s the word?) i started to reflect on what would be the movie of my life, if it were to ‘flash’ before my eyes (or those of someone else?) what little snippets of joy, disappointment, & debauchery would avail themselves of the opportunity of presenting their version of events to the movie screen that is the optical contraption stuck into our heads? would it be cleansed & polished, or sketchy & grainy, color or black & white, perhaps with sepia overtones?
where would the truth begin & the fiction end? the deception of the valley below as liquid as the ocean, perhaps turned upside down in sympathy as i tilt & turn to break my fall. there’s still time left for a denouement or have we climaxed already? time is fleeting & when you fall, although it feels suspended, like a flooded river rushing by, the blurring of the outside regions of your vision provide a softer edge to the images forced into perspective by your mind’s eye, your subconscious desperate for the light of day (or the dark of night as it was in my case.)
bright orange, a slap of cold water on the face, the shock of landing hard on multiple tender points (forearm, knee, ankle); that smack of concrete & brick, the prickle of vegetation scraping your face, all come into focus (your vision of your life forgotten as the reality of what has happened dominates your senses); that sudden snort of dirt as your face gets closer to the ground than it has been in years.
i’ve tried to pull up some of the images that did flash through my mind as i fell, but i fear that they are inventions of what i would like to see & probably not what actually transpired in the tick, tick, tick of tipping over from the great height of my physical being (my center of gravity is higher than most people’s & once gravity does take over, i fall hard.) does you life only flash before your eyes if you’re going, going, gone?
it’s hard enough to construct the truth from your memories of lengthier events in your life, but to try & recapture seconds (or less) seems quite the challenge. i am living with the after effects (pain, surely, but also the conversation, the re-telling, the sympathy from friends, strangers — anyone who’ll listen, quite frankly.) i am sure though, that there were bursts of scenes from my life that popped (a flash bulb) & fizzled & came & went & rose & fell & titillated & prepared me for the earth. (happy ending: i lived.)