Fingers

5 Apr

I woke up many times last night. The documentary I had watched about the Panama papers, followed me into sleep and seemed to occupy my mind for no good reason, other than that I felt betrayed and somehow sharing into the fears and worries of those people that risk their life and well-being for exposing the truth. So my sleep was already restless and my emotional state was not, what one would consider “sunny”. I got some rest after all, but the dream that woke me up again, was one of the strangest things I’ve ever experienced… I say experienced, because in dream it’s always real.

I am inside a foreign room. Beside me on the table, is standing one of those plastic bowls, inside of which I usually gather my herb harvest. I am holding a pair of scissors and one by one, I am chopping off fingers from a hand, and placing them inside the bowl. It occurs to be the most natural thing to do. The hand, it turns out, is my own. I have grown it, similar to how the comic character Deadpool is able to regenerate hands and other body parts. So, I am standing there, chopping off fingers from my own, self-grown hands, of which there are about half a dozen, and collecting the fingers inside the bowl. When I am out of hands, I continue cutting the fingers of my left hand – the one that’s still attached to my arm and body! I sense no pain, as I cut through the knuckle joints and observe myself doing this with a scientific sort of fascination. The fingers don’t bleed as I cut through them. Instead there is immediately skin overgrowing the cut off part. I wonder if or when the fingers will grow back on my hand. When I realize that this may take some time or not happen at all, I stop and begin to worry. What have I done? I look at my hand: of the index and ring finger are only stumps left. In this moment my mother enters the room. Ashamed I hide my hand from her. But at the table is still standing the bowl full of fingers. Some of them are dirty, as if they had just been digging in soil. Worried, that she may see the bowl any second, I wake up.

The first thing I do, is check my hands and fingers upon waking. They are still there. Then I remember, how I had been chopping off and through the hollow stalks of fennel plants, left from last year. I had been cutting them right at the joint, where once the leaves and sheath grew out of the stem. It was already getting dark and with the sun gone, the temperatures went down as well. But I was standing beside the compost, hypnotized, cutting one fennel stalk after another, until I was done with all. I placed the stem segments inside plastic bowls, just like the one in my dream, and then put them up for drying beside my bed. My plan is to fill the hollow stems with a special incense blend for inducing vision and second sight. Well, it looks like I just have been given but a taste of their potency.

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One Response to “Fingers”

  1. Jo Wilson May 18, 2016 at 7:44 pm #

    Wow. That’s crazy! What documentary was it? I’m a documentary watching fool! 😒😒😜😜

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