Turtle Eggs

He waited while the fuzziness in his brain oozed out his ears as slow sound, through his eyes as sparkles that burned when they dropped onto his skin, and dripped from his nose as thick orange mucilage carrying the odor of burnt cinnamon. If he knew where his feet were, he’d pace the room, possibly sticking to the walls with his gummy skin, but the nerves to his lower extremities were on their own, following a path through leaves to a white sand beach where turtles scooped out hollows in which to lay their eggs.