Deep Breath

Vince Bunnyman took a deep breath.
It was something new.
Something untested.
There was nothing to do.
Don’t judge.
Be open.
Let it happen.
He was told to trust his body.
Trust was something that had eluded him.
Especially in recent years.
The thought made him uneasy.
Apprehensive.
Nervous.
Excited.
There was nothing to do.
Explore the feelings.
Explore the responses.
Let the twitches come.
They can’t hurt.
First left.
Then right.
The first sensation is unexpected.
Not ideal.
Go with it.
There is nothing to do.
Pins and needles soon come and the feeling is a welcome reminder of falling asleep on your arm or having your leg elevated for a prolonged period.
Prickly comfort, but comfort nonetheless.
Hands grow bigger with time.
Stronger.
More powerful.
Like he remembers his Father’s.
There is nothing to do.
Pain was always a possibility.
It appears in the most unlikely of places.
Go with it.
But not too far.
Remember it can’t hurt you.
But it does.
Vince twitches.
They’d said it was allowed, and he feels better for it.
Detached from the cause of it all.
There is nothing to do.
Right becomes dazzling.
Shapes that glow and amaze in the darkness.
His childhood is trapped in that moment.
That feeling.
Left is blank.
True darkness.
But it doesn’t bother him.
He enjoys the blindness in the safety of the dark place.
But it doesn’t last.
It rarely does.
There is nothing to do.
Take a deep breath.