absolutely
zambalouked - that's it - zambalouked; there's no other word for it, it's
indescribable without its forbears, and the whole interminable history of signs
and symbols encountered en route.
First we
had that dance routine, it starts with the knees this time. A dull throbbing
ache vibrates through shins and sets the feet in motion. Next it's the wrists
that ache, a slow burning fuse that sets the heavy upper limbs in discomforted
motion, and then the nausea begins.
Elbows
insist the arms must stretch, release the terpsichoreal spasms that shudder
down from the armpits. Turn onto belly, cross arms behind the pillow, stretch
legs and hook toes over the mattress end to stop their flailing burn.
*******
Do you
know that, this time, I thought I'd gotten away with it.
Nice
bright weather coaxed me out of my cocoon, just a little light weeding here, tack
down some mineral felt there. Can't have been more than a couple of hours
exertion spread across two days.
Then
there was the modest change of 27litres of water from the 180litre aquarium, 3
buckets full either way, and that's my exercise!
I
wallowed in that grand illusion; this time no payback. Guess what ...
*******
A couple
of days later the nocturnal dance followed by this achingly shattered, confused
emptiness, a totally zambalouked experience. Absolutely zambalouked, that's all
I've got to say!
Entranced
by the strangest zambalouk.
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