Saturday's Storyteller: "This used to taste like acetone - what happened?"
by Belinda Roddie This used to taste like acetone - what happened? The odors here aren't reminiscent of hand sanitizer anymore. Everything that once was sterilized now has a different flavor. I taste bitter and salty and sweet again. My mouth seems to have been cleansed. I sit on the edge of my bed, and the texture, somehow, is soft. For years, I learned to embrace the sensation of nails across my back. And the sun no longer blinds me - instead, it casts a warm glow across everything I set my gaze on. The walls, the ceiling, the wooden floor. I can see colors again. I can see colors. The doctors told me I was broken - dismantled, beyond repair. But apparently now I've been rebuilt. Now I've been reborn. I take two steps on the floor, and it no longer feels like Siberian winter. I have escaped the tundra, and I no longer suffer the stench of chlorine just by breathing in air. My bones don't feel like splinters beneath my skin anymore. I am reassembled. I am huma