It was like the thumping on my chest

Posted in Writing by NAN on 2012/05/06

was my own nervousness as the bass beat through its source, a black wooden box, its metal mesh, the thick summer air, my beat-up couch, and finally, my chest, caging the little beating organ, which made its own music. In the Pacific, scientists discovered a fish that showed what’s inside its head, glowing like an electric orb 2,000 feet below the ocean’s surface, caging its green eyes that filtered whatever reaching light. Was I being unconscious prey to something that, when the bass pounded fast, I thought it was my heart that sent a rush of panic, a second that bared my chest transparent?