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Tuesday, October 16, 2007

When anxiety attacks


I knew something was wrong when I opened the door. The guy in the UPS uniform was somebody I used to know, somebody I didn't particularly like. He didn't seem to recognize me back though, handed me the fat clipboard and stylus to sign, turned, walked back to the truck by the curb.

I looked down at the box on the porch. I can't remember if I brought it inside or opened it right there.

They looked fine, at first. Then I picked one up and opened it.

My vision swam. Or I just couldn't read for a second. Too nervous? No. The book was full of INCOMPREHENSIBLE POEMS BY SOME OTHER POET!

Then I woke up.

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