And then the monk saw me.
[I have written this and similar sentences over and over. Written this entry from the point the monk became aware of me, the trajectories varying—each leading to a dead end. One dead end—the worst—takes us back to the assault. I end with: I am lucky to be alive. No one wants to be on that list. I erase this. I write this. I erase this. And then I have a panic attack, crawl into bed, stare at the ceiling, consider, reconsider, consider, reconsider taking a bath. I take a bath.]
And then the monk looked up . . .
[Did he look up? I did not see him do this. Did he need to look up? Or was I off-gassing an annoying vibe easily caught on anyone’s radar?]
I was about to land on the Buddha’s dorsum when the monk became aware of me.
[‘The top of the foot is called the dorsum. In anatomy, the term “dorsal” refers to things that are on the top, such as a “dorsal” fin on a shark’—Google info bite. I add this word. A few drafts later I reject it. I finally recognize the word is ridiculous and interrupts the flow.]
. . . descending, swaying as if I were a feather abandoned by a breeze, I was giddy with anticipation—how many people got to stand on the foot of the Buddha?
[Standing on the foot of the Buddha? That’s got to be a desecration of a religious relic. This did not occur to me far into many drafts. And this negligence may have been one reason out of many that made the monk angry and shout ‘Get Out!’ A shout that hurled me backwards with the force and heat of a bomb. I braced for impact against the wall behind me. I did not hit a wall. The propulsion slowed, cooled, and then I felt as if I were being heaved and thrown into bed like a sack of potatoes.]
I stayed in bed for awhile staring up at the ceiling—I would have to get up, feed the kid, dress both of us, drop him off at daycare, go to work but not yet. “Sack of potatoes,” I said. “I am a sack of potatoes.”
The precision of thought, bracketed digressions, the graphical breaks—Maybe the most "effective" piece in this series I've read. That's probably to say: most vividness per pound.
Aside from that, it just seems to me like brave work and I am glad you are doing it and putting it out.