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Thursday 27 October 2011

You're in my Body

So I was sitting at this sidewalk cafe when this bald guy, quite big, sits down across from me, unscrews the top of the salt shaker and delicately dumps a third of the salt in my coffee.
        Delicately? Oh, I mean it was a controlled gesture. He was really controlled, that was one of my first impressions, but a bit too controlled, if you know what I mean. Like he needed control, needed to have a grip on himself, and there's no telling what might go down if he didn't have it.
        "Well?" he said, glaring at me.
        "Is there a problem?" I said.
        This wasn't pleasant, don't get me wrong, but I wasn't too worried. Not at that stage. I mean, it was broad daylight, an upmarket area, people walking by, a cop on the corner - what could go wrong?
        "You're in my body," he said.
        "Pardon?" I said.
        "That's my body you're in. I want it back."
        He was totally serious, but I couldn't see his logic. He was a few years younger than me, more muscular, a little taller. What could he possibly be wanting with my body, which is a bit on the weedy side?
        "I'm not going to mess around," he said. "Out, now!"
        Then he lunged across the table, grabbed my head with his hands and breathed fiercely into my nose. It was terrifying and disgusting at one and the same time. I was sure he was going to bite my nose off.
        Then I felt myself releasing from my body, blinking into nowhere, and that's when I understood the bottom line. He wasn't proposing a swap, my body for his. Oh no. He was going to annihilate me. I was going to be gone, my vacant flesh ready for him.
        It was vomiting that saved me. I did it involuntarily, the body flushing, splurting heat forcing itself up out of my nostrils. Have you ever had vomit coming out of your nostrils? No? Believe me, it's a very interesting experience.
        Anyway, he went reeling back, damaged, somehow, and I had the impression that he was blind, at least for the moment.
        "Yulum," he said.
        Or that's what I heard him to say, but that doesn't make sense, so maybe what he really said, or tried to say, was "I'll be back," or something like that.
        So then, of course, I was motivated to do my research, and that's why I'm here. It seems you're the facilitator, the one who enables this kind of thing. He's still out there, isn't he? He's going to try again. Right? But what does he want my body for? A spare? A kind of weekend car, something like that? Or is there something wrong with the one he's got? Anyway, I want you to stop him. I can pay, you know.
        What's that? Priority of the First? You mean, he gets an unbroken deal just because he was here first? Yeah, I was told it might be something like that. That's why I came prepared. Any last words before I pull the trigger?