Today, in my place, the same place, always the same, the nothing new. In the old fashion, tried and true, I went to cracking the bones in my neck.  You know, one sharp jerk to the left, bam! bam! Then back to the right, Crack!. I am a professional cracker of my neck. This was probably the thirty nine thousand seven hundred fifty sixth time I had grabbed hold of my chin with one hand, and the back of my skull with the other before giving it the heave ho. This time, the dreadfulness came full circle, I suppose. It oddly felt just like all the rest. Wonderful. But this time, nay, this unfortunate time, it stuck.  Dead to the left on a slight tilt, not so much as slanted, but more crooked than anything else. Ear to shoulder, so to speak. It didn’t hurt at first. There was only a steady slow  panic bubbling its way from my gut to my brain. My perfect day, ruined in one tragic instant. A few moments passed, perhaps an hour, and I was beginning to wonder if my neck would remain like this forever. I tried, time and time again to straighten it, each time with no result.  No cooperation, nothing, time and again, nothing. I imagined myself carrying on in this way indefinitely, having to drink out of the side of my mouth, through a straw, for example. I didn’t mind the thought, something about the idea charmed me. With careful consideration, however, I decided that it was best to straighten my neck there was really no reason, as far as I could tell, that I should remain in such a dreadfully frozen position. Therefore, I tried. I tried to straighten my neck manually, unsuccessful, and now, weary from the effort. I began to feel a bit punch-drunk, not that I was drunk, or had been beaten about the head or body. Not today, I don’t think.  Nevertheless, my head wouldn’t move voluntarily, and now my arms were exhausted from trying to perform the opposite of their usual cracking routine. My left arm, numb after the effort, I suppose the blood was not stirring properly. I do have bad arteries and gross eating habits. Tragedy! With my head locked to the side, and my arm atrociously tingling, it came to me that I should probably become still. Yes, just sit still, and wait for this to pass. Everything must pass. Right? I was absolutely motionless.  My head locked in its new position, and my arm laid over my belly, trying drastically to regain its sense of touch. I may in fact be a diabetic, I thought. Pah, nothing to it. The situation had spiraled out of control, with nothing more to be done. Tragic!  I tried in vain to relax, I felt myself tense up, my testicles drawn, my pupils narrowing. My absolute motionless gave way to a slight shiver, then my brain, began beating itself against my skull. I had a full on physical mutiny on my hands. My eyes squinted, and the pupils tightened further.  I couldn’t rub them, I couldn’t touch anything. The sun, that dreadful star, gave me all it had to give. Its heat suddenly seemed capable of melting human flesh, and in that moment, it reduced me to a slithering blob of intestine and bowel. This was all in my head, and I could imagine no further. You had better get a grip, I thought. At least I told myself this, I am not sure if you could classify it as a thought. I thought, there it is again, I thought this should be the moment I tried to live again. I am a sucker for cliché’s. What a coward I am.  And what a lonesome road I have followed all these years. Snagged, hung up, here and in the now.  It is all coming to a loose end. I hope we are ready. I say we, as if I were more than singular. No success. I felt as though I was losing all sensation. I wasn’t completely numb, in the purest since, I just couldn’t move or feel anything on the surface, that is, the skin, and various other organs, that is, all I felt were the sharp pulsating stings darting down through my liver, bouncing off the the ends of my toes, passing back through the liver, and then all over again.  It was a maddening set of occurrences, and I didn’t know how to properly react. Too bad, I thought, this is the end of it all, I am not afraid, it is all happening too late, and much too quickly for someone in my position, but I don’t give a shit. I am ready. So what, I give up. Fuck it all. It’s none of my business anyhow. I ate a good lunch, that much I remember.  And that is enough.  The rest of my days, I can get by like this. I lived a good life with a straight neck. Now I am reborn into the something new. I will just keep it up, you know, go on. I will be a queer sight, but I am used to the foul attention. I sat, nearly motionless, save a few twitches and jerks for nearly an hour. Then, a young woman in a fantastic skirt strolled up, pointing to the lump of white and brown goo between my feet.  My ice cream! I shouted at her, probably as loudly as I could at the time. I was just as surprised to hear my voice as she was. She snarled at me while I tried to hide the mess by coving the mound with the soles of my shoes. I still couldn’t move. And when she asked me what on earth I was doing, I wanted to fall off this bench and wallow in the melted ice cream, to become the goo. Just to show her I meant business. But I couldn’t move anything but my tiny feet, they finally came to life. A slight glimmer. She had no pity for me, those people died off a long time ago. She berated me with her eyes, what a pathetic wretch she must have seen in me. But she saw me, that much is certain.  She turned hastily and walked away. I watched her hips, quite lovely, shifting to and fro, to and fro down the shrub lined path. She was gone, and it was all over. Well, well, McMoody, you dog, I thought, that didn’t work out so well did it? Nothing further to be done or said, so I just imagined that I thought I could stand, and then stood up, leaving the scene forever.