Metamorphosis

Kevin Adriel Munoz - Senegal


December 16, 2017

I can’t wear my skin, it is too humid in here. It poured rained today. This month it has been raining a lot. Wet season. Dry season. That’s all; no autumn, no spring. I should have filled my water bottle. No, I have enough. Let me pour some on my neck, it will help me feel cold. It is 2 am. I ate from a bowl with my family a couple hours ago. Rice and Peanuts. It is all in my body now, regulating my temperature, like food does. If I had to guess it is 103ºF right now. I swear the room became smaller ten minutes ago.

A donkey brays some compounds away. The bats are making friends. The crickets outside sing their rhythmical song. The cricket inside seems to have come closer now. I can hear it with my right ear. Come on, chirp again so I measure the space between you and I. It’s dark. I’m all ears. I can hear the night. It should be 10 pm back home. C’mon you, make a sound. 

The time goes by so slowly when the night comes around. I thought it was 6:30, soon enough to wake up. But it’s 3 am. The inner cricket just reminded me to look at my watch. It has gone under the closet now. Behind the same closet though. Behind the closet I saw a lizard two nights ago. He’s as afraid of me as I am of him -I make myself believe. The little bugs on my bed aren’t afraid though. They itch my back. I’ve killed them but they come back. I hit my sides frenetically when I feel them on my skin, crawl.

Over my head, the roof is made of thin metallic sheets. Over the roof, the cat stamps and I can track her path with my ears. I’m the roof, she’s walking on me. Her claws clink on my metallic skin. It makes me shiver. I must not move. Good roofs don’t move. I must be a good roof. That doesn’t feel like a cat. I’m the body sleeping in my bed now, and that doesn’t feel like a cat. The metallic sheets overlap, a grey humid brick keeps them from flying away. In the gaps the overlapping formed, I hear lizards hide. I hear them frisking across the surface, new for them, not for me. I can’t trust their scrutiny. I imagine them falling on the bed, touching my tired, now 4 am, skin. Desperately running around me. 

I saw one two nights ago. I shall freeze, lay on the side of my bed. Use the bed cover as a shell. I should fall asleep. 
                                                                                                                                     (I can’t.)

Kevin Adriel Munoz