Chasing the Sun

F i f t e e n : Delusions

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Does your body give you hints when it begins to deteriorate or does everything go at once?

If we're allowed a vote, I'm asking for everything to go at once.

I'm more likely to lose my mind if bits and pieces of myself shrink and disappear until there is nothing left.

Thinking out loud, memoirs of a possibly dying man, chapter one.

I should really write this down somewhere.

chime, chime, chime, knock, chime, chime.

Oh God, there it is again.

It's the most infuriating composition of sounds I've ever heard in my life.

A grating, inescapable arrangement that would cause the world's peacemaker to turn to war.

Three chimes of the doorbell, a thundering knock that sounded more like a bulldozer in full effect and then two more chimes of the doorbell.

The sequence persists without break, continuing long enough to be studied and used as a weapon of mass destruction.

The only sounds accompanying this torrid musical were regular intervals of my own groans and congested coughs.

After spending the afternoon kissing Alice in the downpour, I confirmed what my grandmother always knew.

If you get completely soaked by unforgiving rain water, prepare to get the flu.

And boy did I get the flu, if this fever is without any hallucinations, I haven't seen the outside of my apartment in three days.

I've confined myself to the couch, readily accepting my call to the light when the chiming and the knocking began.

I figure its Sam or my friends, they're the only ones who know where I live.

When my phone died and I couldn't muster the energy to charge it, I assume they feared the worse and came to retrieve my uniform.

"Go away, let me rot in peace!" I wailed, my voice hoarse and weak - a sure sign of my impending death, it won't be too long now.

If the fever didn't do it, the raw scraping at the base of my throat or the lack of oxygen from my stuffy nose will push me to an early grave.

Chime, chime, chime, bulldozer knock, chime, chime.

"Why do you hate me so much?" I shout through coughs while pulling my aching body to a stand, ignoring the shivers that run up and down my back.

I'm not positive but either the room or I is spinning, everything appears as a fast-paced blur, blending the colours of my living room into one brown mess with spots of green and red glaring in the background.

Trudging through the haze, I've probably made one solid step to the rattling door and my body is already on fire, begging to give way and make camp on the cold tiles of the floor.

Chime, chime, chime, bulldozer knock, chime, chime.

"Hold on! I'm c-coming." Pulling in a deep breathe, I try to ignore the way the floor sways beneath my feet but one step forward and I stagger three steps back.

With some sense of accomplishment, I make it to the door, beads of sweat decorating my forehead and my breath too uneven to speak but I'm here.

Gathering the last remaining traces of my energy, I prepare myself for a fist fight because only Leonardo James is this persistent when it's glaringly obvious I want to be left alone.