It would occur randomly without reason.

She awoke again to nighttime consciousness, from an abrupt start of free falling.

It was a flutter and pounding of her heart that sent her into a systematic panic that
had all been worked out before. Blaming too much coffee or not enough wine sent
her into a tailspin of anxiety relieved only by a quick fist to the center – Making sure
the heart was truly still beating.

The oversized digital clock with it’s painfully dated numerals bleating 3:56 AM. We
have been through this all before, she rationalized. The flutter turned into a
syncopated grip, the anxiety starting its engine again after a short idle. First try the
left side, she reasoned, repositioning her shoulder to ease the sense of dread in her
side. Then try the right.

The comfort would seem to last only a second. It was no use; the bed softened the
blow only momentarily when once again the unpleasant notion would reel her back
into panic until enough was enough. Sitting up, she stared at the clock.

“Why are you torturing me” she hissed under her breath, careful not to wake her
sleeping partner. The flutter subsided to a dull, heavy thud, softly fading into the
background. She was tired. The clock flipped its large neon digits lethargically to
3:59 AM. The red glow was the only identifiable sight in the room. Her left arm
tingled and she tried to find her toes by slowly lengthening and shortening them.
She became aware of a strange lightness, her side floating.

The flutter tried to escape. The quick fist suddenly lost its tracking and found no
thud. Looking over to the clock she saw it, hovering above the black outline of the
case. Like a zero, quivering an inch or so above the clock. It was her heart. Smaller
than she expected and much prettier too. Not like in all those anatomical books with
ventricles or mitrals. It actually quite reminded her of a pastel flower-bloom
firecracker purchased for the Fourth of July, slowly gyrating in a manner not unlike
the pounding she expected it had been doing inside just moments before.

The clock flipped to 4:01 AM.

The red neon dot in the left-hand corner of the display reminded her the alarm was
set and due to promptly go off in less than 3 hours. The flutter of the heart
continued to gyrate and turn. She felt a strange presence of relief, and turned to
see if she was still breathing. “I don’t understand” she puzzled. “Is this something
you want?” She questioned the heart. A glean from the pink and yellow and blue
sparkles followed each other like an atom quicker and quicker. The heart quietly
hovered closer and closer to the bedroom window, and farther and farther away
from the clock. It could see its reflection against the glass, brightening the shade
and pane in its presence.

She could see from a distance, her own dull reflection as well from back in the bed,
also being cast against the window. The heart seemed to wander closer to the soft
yellow light from the outside streetlight, much like a confused firefly. The relief she
sensed was suddenly overcome by a sadness in realizing what must pass.

“Do you want to go out?” she unfortunately asked the shimmering heart. Its colors
quickened and sparks increased- the octagonal body pulsated and gyrated until it
looked almost out of breath. She sat up again on her elbows and then raised herself
slowly, and calmly so as not to wake her partner. The floor felt warm underneath her
feet as her toes hit the soft carpet.

Walking over she found her self standing gently next to the heart, so as not to
scare it. Her tingling hands unlatched the window and pushed the heavy pane up.
The heart hesitated for a moment, pulsing slower, but then faster as if in
anticipation. “Please, just go” she advised. The sparks whirred softly for a moment
and then quickly leapt into the night, leaving a silent sulphurous trail. She could see
from the window as it violently flew across the roofs, much as if an evil child had
willed it. Bouncing off shingles two blocks over she saw it explode into the darkness,
a magnificent array of illumination, every color you could want to see. Her breath fell
silent and she pulled down the pane. The room resided to blackness once again.
Creeping back in the room she tucked herself calmly into bed.

Glancing at the clock she notice the glow of the digital numbers broadcast 2 hours and 57 minutes of sleep to go.


Return to Mitrals
Return to Mitrals