Silhouette of Sickness

Tom felt terribly sick, as if he had swallowed glass, just like that man he saw on That’s Incredible! He wondered if that man ever felt this way? Did his stomach feel hard, like a rock, on the outside, and sharp, like fire, on the inside; like hell’s gumball?

Tom sat there staring at the wall that was spotted with antique silhouettes of his ancestors, their profiles rigid and stern looking, wondering if they ever felt this way? Did he inherit this gene from one of those silhouettes? Could he see, in one of those cut pieces of black paper – a mere shadow of his relative – the same expression of pain that besieged his face and caused lines to form where there had been none before?

Tom had a notion to rise and cross the room to get a closer look at the silhouettes, to see if he could discern any sign of pain in the cutouts of his ancestors, but the slight press of his hand against the arm of the chair caused his stomach to spew daggers in all directions and he let out a howl that could have woke the silent silhouettes, and did indeed wake the neighbor’s dog.

It was just after that moment, that moment of unspeakable pain, that Tom decided to become a vegetarian and resolved to have his picture taken, in full color, with an expression on his face that would tell his descendants, undeniably, that yes, one of their ancestors felt their pain.

Ashes, Ashes: She fell down

He walked close to the edge, grasping the brown paper bag close to his side. He fell to the back of the group, increasing his chances of inconspicuousness. The group was larger than usual, larger than he had expected, which only helped to salve his fear of being found out. And this sort of action - the one he would soon undertake - was, of course, highly frowned upon.

If a strong wind were to pick up, or if even a slight breeze blew through as he released his mother's ashes, the rest of the tour group would be engulfed by his late mother and, of course, conspiracies of terrorism and white powder would begin to circulate or, even worse, someone would scream 'How dare he?' or, 'How could he?' and sue for reckless endangerment of their entitlement.

But, it was a calm day and Gerry was able to slip to the back of the pack, out of view of the leader, and gently empty his mother's ashes over the edge and into the valley; it was her dying wish. Her ashes fell through the air. A gentle breeze took her out, away from the cliff side, and she dispersed into her dream.