THERE!

There!

Yes here. A few fingers point, few faces stare. I realize a formation lump inside me, which grows bigger and heavier and I grow bigger and heavier with it. More fingers point and more faces stare and more reasons they give, plastering me tighter and tighter, to those, to which “one must glue,” to which the arrow in my head hunts down to be the source of this lump- lump in my throat, a lumpy knot in my belly, a round cosmos of creation and inception. Lying here, dots and dots of fingers, featureless faces crowd my vision. Surrounded, the heaving mountains heave faster, rising and falling in gasps and breaths, the lump is heavier, swollen like a water balloon, tempted to burst with the slightest prick, placidity before the epic moment - desperate chaos, in the matrix of this franctic experience, the lump locates it’s moment, bursts and noise, events follow- wet cascading down my blurry vision into ears, trailing moist bands on my face, the clench release in a scream, a scream that screams that scream that pleads to stop. Creation with the knowledge of it.

But as if only inside the cranium because still the flooding fingers point and faces stare.