sunday special: decay

I’ve done harm to my body; now I’m coughing as with any illness of the lungs, of the tender the brachial tubes. I wake to find my hairline receding and a yawning, static void where the hearing of my right ear used to be. Now there are spots in my mouth where I hear the toothbrush probing with perfect fidelity, and there are others, a tooth or two away, where the sound is flat and dead. It isn’t tinnitus, but some other ailment of age or indiscretion.

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