The Deadzone II

forgetfull tree 1Occasionally, friends and their children tumble into my deadzone. I only figure this out when it’s too late.

Should we be mid-conversation and a dullness glaze my eyes and my mouth cease its blather, please know I still care about you and our chitchat, but have momentarily darted into my brain cavity to operate the mega-watt searchlight, peering into the dark moldy folds of my mind in search of your name.

 I expect silence and the vacancy you encounter in my visage will signal my distress.

You can throw me a lifeline here. It usually just takes a little hint. Like pointing to yourself and saying, “Elizabeth.”

 Before your feelings get hurt, remember I am the person who sometimes can’t recall whether I have running water at my house.

And that hole in my head sucks up an amazing a number of random things, glasses, multiplication tables, appointments, past pain, and the day of the week.


I swim in muddy water.

About Vic Cobb Fountain

Empowered Stroke survivor: appreciating where I've been, anticipating where I'm going.
This entry was posted in life, stroke, stroke recovery, words. Bookmark the permalink.

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