Hidden City Curiosities

[Some of you may know I am a writer, but as I usually just use this site to post pictures of the pre-apocalyptic decline of the world around us — and of cute widdle snuggum kitties — many of you don’t. So because I just happened to be re-editing a bunch of my shorter works for inclusion in a book, I decided to share one with my Tumblr friends. If you comment it will make me happy. Oh, and yes, this really happened.]

As if there weren’t enough problems scratching at the doors of my life, I developed insomnia again, probably related to a project at work which had thrown my sleep schedule all out of whack.  This time it was about 4am when I woke, my left eye itching horribly. I crawled out of bed and staggered to the too-bright bathroom to look and see what was wrong.

Each footstep across the hardwood floor drove stilettos of agony into my eye socket. My knees started to buckle and I clumsily slammed my shoulder into the door-frame. I leaned in close to the mirror and pulled back the lid so I could see the problem. It was obvious: a reddish-brown stick about half an inch long was protruding from the left corner of my left eye. While trying to remain calm I was also wracking my brain trying to figure out what the hell I got stuck in my eye socket. Then another shock wave of pain crashed through my head, knocking me to the floor. After a moment’s recovery, I grabbed the edge of the sink and dragged myself back to my feet. I was almost afraid to look.

Yes, a second stick was now visible, in the right corner of my eye this time, and both began to tentatively wave about. Tears splattered my chest as I watched more sticks forced their way out of my flesh. I couldn’t delude myself any longer, they were indeed crab-like legs, and as the pain slowly faded the impossibly logical part of my mind determined these legs were coming from behind my now gruesomely bulging eye. I started to panic — could I drive myself to the emergency room when I could barely walk?

Forcing some rationality I rummaged through the medicine cabinet and found an old stretch bandage and wrapped it diagonally around my head to cover the afflicted eye. On the third loop the original itching sensation returned, and to my horror I felt movement under the bandage. I clasped my hands over the eye and felt something squirming, wriggling, pushing against the thin elastic cloth. I was startled and jerked my hand back; the bandage snapped away. My brain reeled from the searing pain ripping through my skull and I wish for nothing more than quick death. My knees finally collapsed completely, and as I fell my head slammed hard against the pink tile wall.

I’m not sure that I blacked out completely, but it is possible. At the very least I was stunned for a few moments, my vision oddly blurred, but I still saw movement on the floor near me. Instinctively I knew that the the small creature skittering away from me, chitinous legs scrabbling across the wooden floor, was my left eye, supported by brownish-red crab legs. I panicked, knowing that if the cats were to see this thing, it would be ruined forever. I crawled from the bathroom to the living room, futilely grabbing at it, realizing that the smears on the floor were not merely my tears.

And then mercifully woke, my pillows drenched with stale, cold sweat.  I fumbled in the nightstand for my notebook to jot down this nightmare, and then began scratching at the fearsome itching beginning behind my left eye.