Monday, May 09, 2016

Creepy Shadow Puppets

It's a really weird thing not to recognize your own shadow. 

Your shadow is sort of something you take for granted. It's been with you for decades. You are used to seeing it on the sidewalk when you walk the dog. On the kitchen cabinets when you make your morning coffee. It may be wider  than you'd like. Shorter than you'd like. But it's yours and yours alone. Your shadow is familiar. And friendly. It is your constant companion. Maybe even your friend (if you were a particularly lonely child, perhaps).

Then one day, you end up with cancer. You lose all your hair, and your shadow becomes a stranger.  A foreign creature--both hideous and unexpected--stalking you from room to room.

Making my coffee this morning, I was startled--yet again--by my shadow on the clean slate of my white kitchen cabinets. What the hell IS that thing??

Thick neck. Big ears. Egg-like polished top.

It's Darth Vader without the mask--breathing his creepy asthmatic wheeze in my ear.

It's Sloth from The Goonies--looking like a phlegmy Picasso painting.

It's Verne Troyer flashing jazz hands at me.

It's Seal crooning at me in his generally creepster sort of way.

It's Verys from Game of Thrones, sniggering and planning my inevitable demise.

My shadow has become all five of these men rolled into one and, frankly, it's a wee bit disturbing. Imagine walking into the ladies' room and being followed by Verne Troyer. It's scary as shit! Or having Seal pop up on your bedroom wall as you sit up and rub your eyes first thing in the morning. It's enough to make the faint-hearted scream in terror.

Darth Vader stalks me in my own living room.  Sloth jumps out at me from behind the couch. It's like living in a haunted house, people! No one warned me about this unpleasant phenomenon when I was diagnosed with cancer. Not a single oncology nurse advised me that Seal would follow me home one day and eat my happy-go-lucky, familiar shadow for breakfast. I may have had second thoughts.

Given all of the facts, I may have decided not to have cancer, after all, dammit!

But it's too late, I suppose. Verys brought all his gowns and is apparently here to stay.  I might as well get used to it. I should look for the silver lining in it all, I guess.





Anonymous said...

Who thinks of this, my Shannon does. Eeriest cancer story, my friend.

Anonymous said...

Virginia said...

The silver lining is that you can trap Verys and interrogate him as to his plans for the throne. Maybe if you kidnap him, you can get George RR Martin to release the last book sometime this decade.

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