The twin is active again.
The muscles in my legs have been moving and shifting. He seems to be taking up more space, conquering the inside of my body with a brute force.
I can feel my legs spasming and shaking and I wonder if I should have worn my new shoes to work. While they are comfortable, my feet always take a long time to adapt to new shoes as if they have to get to know them.
The twin punches me in the shoulders, a fierce pain flowing along my shoulders and my upper back. I count again, trying to picture something pleasant, something enjoyable, that is not related to the pain that flashes like lights under my skin.
The pain there fades only to flow down to my lower back. I wonder if pain can travel through the bloodstream, flowing through my veins so that it can cause discomfort where it chooses.
This is a ridiculous notion, of course; it’s my muscles that spasm, that ache. But I find the image of pain having no shape, no body, slightly thrilling.
What if I could bleed pain out of my body and bottle it, closing the bottles away into a dark cupboard, never to be seen again?
What if wishes could come true?