Essay on Fat: A Fictional Narrative

939 Words4 Pages
She stopped. The flat gold carpet tipped at a forty-five degree angle, then swirled away when she reached for it. The end table swooped and crashed a sharp edge into her arm. Then the floor lunged in and slammed against her side but not before her outstretched arms cleared the table of pill bottles, candles and lotions. The black lamp tipped, embroidered shade popping off and she felt the fall vibrate the walls as she lay there breathing. A lazy film of powder rose from where the light bulb used to be. Juice dripped onto her back. It was ice-cold and fresh from the refrigerator. Once she realized what it was, she sprang to her feet, no longer dizzy and righted it. Half gone already. It was the last she had. The steady drizzle of liquid…show more content…
But that seemed like cheating and it wasn't a dance of the dervish. They did graceful spins like dandelion fluff or ash seeds on the wind. Maybe she had stopped too fast and put her arms down too fast, jolting her equilibrium into wanting normal. But she hadn't been dizzy until she'd quit spinning and that meant something. Didn't the dervish slow to a waltzed step before they settled? It was the lack of control that scared her. When you were that dizzy, you couldn't tell where you were, and getting down on the ground was wrought with error. She saw all the sharp corners of the suddenly dangerous room. It could have been worse, she could have cracked her head, banged her face, or put an eye out instead of just bruising a left shoulder. How was she ever to get it right without endangering herself? Maybe just a couple of slow turns at first and see what happened. But not now, she lay on the large bed and closed her eyes. She could feel them around her. A gentle pressure of warning and presence. They wanted her to spin and count the spinning to avoid impending disasters. They were a dream, a fantasy, or worse, a hallucination. No, they were real. Often annoyingly so. Whenever she was busy, she'd hear them. In the kitchen, they'd say her name. She’d feel pressure on her ears, or a high ringing and a faster beating of her heart. They'd drag
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