My organs feel robotic. My organs feel metallic. My organs feel...nothing. ~ The days slip by. That's how I know I'm working again. The flicker by, like a montage showing the passing of seasons. Laying in bed, beside a pile of unsorted laundry, my window cracks to the sharp autumn air, I can hear a sound on the wind. It calls up from down the mountain, a long, mournful howl, from the throats of a thousand fantastic beasts. In reality, it's likely a train braking in the train yard down at the bottom of the mountain, the metal wheels dragging on the tracks as it tries to bring a long load of yellow sulfur to a halt in front of the plant. But between the echo of the mountains, it sounds like a thousand fantastic beasts. ~ Everything seems to be functioning again. All my organs are producing the things they should be (I think), and the waste product is being produced. But... But I don't feel hunger anymore. I also don't feel full. I don't feel anything. I over eat by accident, and instead of feeling gross, I just feel...expanded. Like a balloon. It's not a comfortable feeling. But it's not a normal feeling. I toy with the idea of calling my doctor, that gentle-eyed woman. What do I say? My organs don't feel right? I don't even know. Leaves gather in the gutter like flecks of yellow paint. The fall is coming. . Rosie
Before&After
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