I didn’t want to be cleansed. Things were fine as they were. I could feel death inside me, smooth as an egg. I knew what it was. In the Gospels Christ says, if a man is rid of one demon, he’ll just end up with seven more. I didn’t need seven. I only needed one.
Everything looks different with a ghost inside you. Even the air and the light. Nothing weighed anything. It all swayed at the slightest provocation. Every tree was seaweed. I moved slowly, because I no longer belonged where I was. Not where I was going, not where I came from. Not that you are trying terribly hard, but I don’t think you could understand. You have only lived with the living, only breathed air. There is so much more of death. There’s a gap in you. Just the right size for an egg.
You, though. You’ll never find one.
I know what you want. You want me to tell you how it happened, in the hope that, by accident, I’ll tell you something else along the way. I got lost in a cave. Not many people like caves, I’ll admit. They…