The starlight twinkles in the sky. And I sit alone. Although surrounded by much, I am all alone. A beetle scuttles across the sidewalk and suddenly I become like a cat. I leap across the pavement and my hands rush out and capture the beetle. I bat it and then stick it in my mouth. Its feet scramble against my tongue. Suddenly, I become aware of myself again. I realize that I have put a bug in my mouth. I spit it out and it lies prone in a puddle of my saliva. What was I doing?
I return to my spot on the bench and listen. My ears fill with the words and stories of others. I shudder in the cold and pull my hood over my head. The stories drag at me. I stare up at the artwork of a gigantic spider in the rafters. I am captivated by the simplicity of the design and yet the complexity. Quickly, like a monkey, I scramble up to the spider web. I stare at it entranced. I poke the web and watch the spider dance away from me. I hang upside down from the rafters staring down at all of those gathered around below. Their words hold meaning yet I struggle to know what to do with those words. Each word is like a bullet into my very being. They rip me a part. Why am I here?
Again, I return to my place among the group. I shiver with cold with everyone else. My feet are so cold that I no longer feel them. Stories still swirl around me. While others find freedom, I struggle. My eyes catch sight of a millipede. Its legs carry it rapidly across the cement. My imagination places me as one of its feet. Like a team we feet pull the millipede across the pavement. Abruptly, a swift foot comes slamming down. The world goes black. I am smashed with the millipede. I am beyond repair. Once again, I feel the cold and hear the words of those around me. Yet, I am dead. How does this happen?