Yakabatanidzwa ruzha

Hours pass, or maybe it’s only minutes. Time has lost its elasticity, stretching and compressing in the suffocating darkness. The movie reel in my mind finally burns out, leaving a blank, humming static. My body is cramped from being curled in a tight knot for so long, my muscles protesting with du…

Hours pass, or maybe it’s only minutes. Time has lost its elasticity, stretching and compressing in the suffocating darkness. The movie reel in my mind finally burns out, leaving a blank, humming static. My body is cramped from being curled in a tight knot for so long, my muscles protesting with dull, persistent aches. I am acutely aware of every inch of my skin, of the rough texture of the boxer briefs, of the smooth, imprisoning feel of the sheets. A new sound joins the symphony of my misery.