scars
My fleeting moment as the boy wizard came, last night, as I sat at my desk; a burning sensation in my elbow from, of all places, the fading impression of one of my most dramatically acquired scars. We've all experienced that unusual effect where a pain, or itch, can be felt concurrently at two different places on the body - at least, I assume it's common - a simple function of the structure of our nervous systems.
Part two arose somewhere in the middle of my head, producing an intense wave of nausea, something I've rarely experienced proper, and quite so consuming that I had to stop what I was doing and lie down for a long while. Now there was a first; it's obviously the beginning of the end, though I doubt that this will involve the dark Lord coming for me; that would make for an interesting change of routine. Alas, certain, fundamental rules continue to be obeyed by the world around.
As it passed, quickly enough, it left me staring at the ceiling and thinking about all the little marks that I've picked up along the way, and where they came from; 1980s, chin, childhood accident, boy meets barbed wire; 1986, right thumb, dog bite, leave road kill well alone; 2000, right elbow and both knees, hit by a truck, god bless Chicago; 1982, right hip, tuberculosis vaccine, I will get you one day, evil Singaporean; 1998, left index, snake bite, not venomous, but so much blood; 1992, right arm, chickenpox, a relaxing Christmas; 2001, ruptured appendix, somewhere below my underwear line, thank you for two years of misery and misdiagnosis, NHS. Who needs a journal?
I did not miss the imperative
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If this is karma, then who were you last time round?
Probably a Republican.
At first I read the fourth through the eighth words of this post as a subordinate clause and thought it was going to be about something completely different.
Which reminds me of this, though as you say, I was heading elsewhere; were you disappointed? I might have to bear that in mind.
A Republican. Remind me to buy you lunch sometime.
I haven't really thought too long and hard about this one, but my likely erstwhile identity was best described by a girlfriend of mine who was taking into consideration the amounts of food I can put away; she suggested that I must have died in the Ethiopian famine.
If there is EVER a dangerous situation again. NEVER go in. Just send anyone else. They wont get hurt.
Who were you offering lunch?
Your offer for a free Michelin-graded 7 course meal will expire in five seconds time.
I'm lost. Utterly and completely. What's going on, what's happening, why would you buy someone lunch due to being a Republican, and what's the dangerous situation to be avoided but not for a third party? And what's with the Auto-Stairs? Am I on a different planet, or has this comment thread lost its mind?
So that's the thing that ran past me just now! I was wondering what it was - it's not every day I see graymatter high tail it that fast. Hmm... I wonder where it was going.
You were offering me lunch? Are you sure? Don't make promises you'll regret. ;)
Automated message from the desk of Howie:
Blogsters are reminded that the procurement of a luncheon or any other similar service from Mr Stairs is not permitted. Thank You.
Is this jealousy I sense? How adorable!
Yes, it is. I want to be taken out for lunch ;-)
How nice; I've been usurped by my own auto-response service. I'd have punctuated that differently, foolish machine. In any case, the offer of lunch has been recinded by proxy; sorry.
David, take solace in the fact that nothing has changed.
Indeed. Honestly, David, whatever gave you the crazy idea there was a mind to lose?
Dunno. I'm still too confused to think straight. I think I'll go and eat some worms. In the garden.
That's the spirit! The learning curve is steep, but you fair ascend quickly.
The short, fat, fuzzy ones are most delightful, in fact. A real delicacy. But I had to fight with the starlings to get the best pickings.
Look! Zebras!
Wait, I know that diversionary tactic. Did I miss some talk about sex?
Look! Zebras!