Monday, March 5

Skull, or Pennies

The skull leaned back, right back, from just above the eyebrows. It sloped away from the face, as if repulsed. The skull was uneven and the bone had not quite formed properly, exhibiting lumps and bumps all over. The eyes stuck out; rather than set into their sockets they protruded, their lids peeled back; antennae flicking. The face itself was small and unsightly.
It was me.
I stood before the mirror and stared in horror at myself. I ran my hands over my head and felt that it was rough. My skin was peeling off, in large, brown flakes. The flakes, or perhaps scabs, could be peeled off and were as big as pennies. I held the scabs in my fingers and blew them on to the floor. As much as I tried to remove all the scabs, more grew in their place. Sparse hair grew, but only the odd strand. I tried to shave the strands that poked into the air around my bald skull, but when I shaved them, they grew back instantly. Each little strand shone in the light and accentuated the malformation of my head. I cried at my appearance. I sobbed. I feared going into work and my friends seeing me and I sobbed. No one would be attracted to me. No one would fall in love with me. I sobbed.
I woke up and touched my head.
My hair was still there and my face felt normal; my eyes in their sockets, where they belonged. I could not go back to sleep so I lay there. Eventually it was time to get up and go to work.

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