Creative Piece Inspired by "In Bed"

"Less Than a Wink"

The impressions you make on a person are not entirely those of a physical nature: a true friend doesn't stand by your side due to your looks, nor does a real romantic relationship thrive on beauty alone. First impressions start with the physical, and depending on the scenario, that quick glance could be the only interaction two people have. But there is an in-between: a colleague at work, or a student in your class. These are people who have interacted with you in more ways than a glance, yet less than a friend would. At this stage, the physical remains in play.

So, how does one deal with a twitch? The scene plays out the same every time. Working in a computer repair business, re-seating two sticks of RAM in the tower, and you look up. There's a co-worker doing the same. It could be a man or a woman, as neither gender makes the following any less awkward. A twitch, unstoppable and seemingly incurable, occurs: your right eye slams shut, producing the most violent winking animation that the co-worker has ever witnessed. What happens now? Do they think that you winked at them, or do they think that you want to hurt them? Surely there are labels running through their minds, ranging from creepy to psychotic, disturbed to insane.

My parents would never believe that the twitch was uncontrollable. Nothing I claimed to have actually existed: once, I offered the suggestion that I was depressed, to which they merely laughed at. They meant well in that they didn't want to believe that anything could be wrong with me. The same occurred when I brought up ADD. I can't exactly sit down and read a book, or study, without my mind wandering off permanently. It's a massive, unconquerable hindrance, perhaps fixable by medications, but my parents would never see me on them.

And so it was that I progressed through middle school and high school as the quiet, creepy kid. My fate was predetermined by a broken brain, and it's one that I can't explain to anybody because they don't understand enough to take it seriously. Instead, my parents (who are both in the medical field) write it off as laziness, and claim that it is simply my desire to slack off in life. They think me foolish, and unable to comprehend life's greatest challenges. My mother in particular believes that I lack the understanding to lead a fulfilling life, but that it can be fixed provided I simply "grow up" and leap headfirst into new-found responsibilities.

I admire her enthusiasm, and I want nothing more than to meet those expectations. I tell her that often, but she just shakes her head. If she knew the level of fear that consumes me every day, no matter where I am, she would certainly think differently. As it is, I'll continue to violently wink at those who I come in contact with. Maybe I'll get lucky, and people will realize it's a twitch. Or maybe, they'll wink back in some sort of silent understanding.

3 Essays from Short Takes

NOTE: The three essays are titled "Confessions" (88), "Bullet in My Neck" (318), and "The Big Nap" (322).

Life and death are perhaps the two heaviest topics that a writer can attempt to tackle. It likely does not surprise anyone that, in the realm of creative nonfiction, they tend to come up quite a bit. I have selected three essays from Short Takes that deal primarily with life and death, but beyond that, the feelings that they bring with them. I like to think they each tackle life and death in different ways, but are similar enough to the point where a trend in nonfiction writers is seen.

In “Confessions” by Amy Tan, her mother holds a knife to her neck after outright stating that she wishes that she would have died instead of her brother or father. Amy was clearly a victim of frequent abuse, and she grew up around death. Perhaps fittingly, she now has to worry about her own at the hands of the one person on the planet who is meant to defend you more than anyone else. The striking moment comes when her mom asks “Why you don’t cry?” We are treated to the inner thoughts of Amy, who is thinking “so what?” if she should die. She believed that she was at the point where no one would care, and in that moment, she primarily felt sad for her mother and the situation. This is certainly a unique view on death: being so used to it that you simply do not care if it should come and claim you.

In “Bullet in My Neck”, Gerald Stern has a bit more of a severe encounter with potential death. He is shot in the neck by a couple of teenagers while sitting at a red light in Newark, New Jersey. He states that “Everything in such a situation takes on a life of its own, and the few seconds it took me to realize I wasn’t going to die seemed like a much longer stretch of time, and though my neck swelled up and blood was pouring out, my only thought was the get out of there as quickly as possible.” Here, we see a strong desire to survive. Gerald’s survivor instincts kick in, and, despite the rapid blood loss and potential for panic, he is able to gather his thoughts quickly enough to know one true fact: he needed to get to a hospital quickly. This is in stark contrast to Amy’s essay, in which she is far more accepting of her fate. Gerald could have simply sat there, letting the blood pour, perhaps believing that there is nothing more he could do.

Finally, in “The Big Nap” by Michael Perry, we are given a completely different view on death. Instead of being the person about to be (almost) killed, we see an EMT’s opinion. For instance, in one scene he writes about, he has been called to an elderly woman’s assistance and was attempting to save her life while her crying husband watched on. He says “I wish we hadn’t been called at all. I wish he had simply put the phone down and held her hand as she died.” I don’t view this as evil or anything, as it’s basic human nature to not want to bear witness to such terrible moments in life. Even so, it’s interesting that an EMT, a person trained to see and deal with death on a daily basis, can still be moved by each experience as opposed to being desensitized.

I think this says a lot about creative nonfiction. It shows that what the common person may think to be the most obvious topic to write about may be one of the least obvious. That readers can be surprised by the turns an essay takes, and the massively different views that separate essays can present when dealing with the same theme. Life and death may be common elements of nonfiction essays, but they certainly do not have to all be about a relative dying and being sad about it, or any other common trope.