Amphigory

Good lord, what a mess... haven't you heard? It happened, why, the day before tomorrow, I believe... The sky collapsed into the future and now it’s raining upside down. Hopefully by Christmas we’ll be able to see the stars again; the meteorologists remain skeptical. Don’t worry, this will all make sense once I tell you about my trip to Australia last Spring. I’m still not sure what possessed me to vacation in that crocodile infested country. That’s what you get--promising career as a concert pianist, right down the crapper.

Should have gone to California instead.

Now there’s only air, and a stub, and a permanent itch where twenty seven bones used to be. Twenty seven musical bones, an eighth of all the bones I have. Roughly half of my interpretation of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata swallowed and digested by a large aquatic tetrapod.

Now do you see? Do you see why the sky collapsed into the future? 

Everyone out on the streets looks like they wet their pants, on account of the rain falling upside down, you know?

Sometimes I take out the crayons and draw the contours of my missing left hand on a piece of white paper. It looks a little bit like a turkey.

In the end what remains is the horrible, all-consuming fear of crocodiles.