/
Loss of
sensation
Photography by Kristi Beisecker
Judi Walsh
You have to hold on, young man, he said to me, or the waves will lift you right off
your feet. I said what about the lightning and he said you have to be quick and slip
back when it cracks or you’ll be stuck and you don’t want to be on that side for long.
He puts his fingers in my eyes and I hold my breath for as long as I can. The grind
of stone against stone growls up from my stomach and into my chest and into my
head and I can’t hold them in and I burst my ears and my eyes. The salt is in the
back of my nose and I cough out silver-green and every in is filled with tarnish.
The clear drips crash crash crash keeping my time. You need to listen for the beep
I remember but I can’t hear without. You need to listen for the beep. Listen for the
beep. Listen for the beep. It is faint but I grab it and stuff it down. It grows
rhythmic, red, fluid. Hello young man, the lightning says. Are you where you need
to be? I am quick and slip through. He cannot fool me. I know which side I am on.