Cutting Josh
a creative writing post (#38)
Last week, I cut
with a knife.The experience was a major nervous system event for me, one from which I learned something important about reality, dopamine, the ephemera of our digital world, friendship, and myself.
This is that story.
We had a date to see the Reagan film, and Josh came over to my apartment early to hang out first.
By the way: I have no idea how accurate the history is or isn’t in that film, but as a film, it was great. I really enjoyed it, especially that the film didn’t ever try to nuance the viewer out of feeling pride in being American.
Josh collects kerosene lamps — a charming hobby. Kerosene lamps are lovely, old-fashioned, beautiful ways to heat and light a home. I like to draw, and have found them to be some of the most lovely and challenging items to sketch.
A couple of days before this story begins, Josh had a minor accident in his home.
He had dropped the shade, the glass cover part, of one of his kerosene lamps. A piece of glass that got missed in the cleanup had gotten embedded in his heel, in a place that was impossible for him to reach himself.
A trip to Urgent Care would be expensive, time-consuming, and annoying. So we decided that I would try to do minor surgery on his foot and see if I could get it out myself.
I was moved that he could trust me that much, and perfectly willing to try.
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