‘Cure for Pain’

Photographer - Tobi Brun

Cure for Pain

My eyes open. A millisecond later, dawn spawns from earth’s yawny maw. Too slow. The notepad which I had set on my nightstand four hours ago, then freshly unwrapped and uninked, is now a tapestry of pages plastered across my bedroom wall. My mind never rests.

Bopatex
Coxanoclep
Veltchex

I press my palms against each name in turn. Not fatherly, not motherly. A lone hero holding the iron gate shut. Beyond the gate is a stampede of woolly mammoths, a pride of lions, a few labradors and a Shetland pony with a vendetta. Behind me is a baby.

Not actually. Just in the metaphor.

Which phone is ringing? I check the nightstand. The sock drawer. The ceiling fan. Of course... the rooftop glasshouse. It’s in the hydrangeas.

“Langstons.”

“Langstons! The pitch is in twenty. We need the name right now.”

I knew fate would rattle my hydrangeas again.

“You know the cost if I choose wrong.”

“You never have and you’re not going to today Langstons.”

Not on record I haven’t. But the record of my mind can’t be wiped clean so easily. I’ll never forget that day. Yellow bicycle on the lawn. A swingset coiled around itself. A thornbush with a hole the shape of a five-year-old boy. The dulce de leche ice cream never melts in my nightmares.

Bopatex
Coxanoclep
Xeltchex

“What does it do?”

“Lowers blood pressure.”

“Side effects?”

“Nausea, vomiting. Sandy bones. Ringing in the ears. Vaginal thrush.”

“By god...it’s Bopatex.”

I pray I’m not wrong

Jonathan Atz is a human. With feelings and desires. One of those desires is to tell stories. And to have a nemesis. If you think you've got the gumption you can find him at @honeyivegotthe on twitter.