The Shape of Days

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Monday, October 22, 2007, 6:45 pm

Occasional hell

Years and years ago — seriously, we’re talking like 1993 here — I wrote a short story. It was called “An Occasional Hell.” The details aren’t important, particularly since the manuscript is long gone. But the pivotal moment of the tale happened when the protagonist, blinded by a sudden migraine, stumbled into his bathroom in the dark and swallowed a handful of aspirin from the medicine cabinet.

Except it wasn’t aspirin, but rather powerful prescription narcotics, which he didn’t know because he didn’t turn on the light to read the label.

Thence came the dramatic irony.

Sure, it’s kind of a childish conceit, but I was I child. I couldn’t have been older than about 22. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing.


I bring this up today because on Saturday night I couldn’t sleep, so I stumbled to the bathroom at half past two to take a couple pills to help me sleep. Nothing scandalous, just something to knock me out so I wouldn’t toss and turn all night.

Except I didn’t turn on the light. And I didn’t read the label. And the bottle that was supposed to be here was actually over there, and what I took was something else entirely.

It took me until tonight to figure this out. To figure out why I’ve been feeling the way I’ve been feeling all day.

I didn’t know what the hell I was doing.

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Comments


  1. Wow. Life sort of imitating art, ey? Glad you’re okay.

    When I was a child, about 5 or 6, my sisters and parents were on our way to see my dad’s office. I don’t know why, just for fun, probably because we’d only recently moved there (New Orleans). We were in a hurry for some reason, almost out the door, but I had a stomach ache. So my mom reached into the cupboard and grabbed a bottle of the pink stuff. Quickly offered a tablespoon or two, and we headed out.

    I felt progressively worse, and when we walked back into the house a short time later, what was out on the counter? Not Pepto Bismal. It was Calamine lotion.

    Oddly enough, I don’t recall the taste of the lotion, but I’ll never forget the taste of that tall glass of salt water the doctor made me drink after my mom called him. Wow, that was nasty. But yeah, it did the trick.

    Karen Demerly

    Monday, October 22nd, 2007, 8:58 pm


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