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There is no need for us to talk. We hear each other clearly, without the interference of rhetoric that confuses the soul. Hands barely touching, fingers tracing the outline of the wrist moving gracefully to the inner cove that lies between the thumb and the forefinger. Ascending gradually into your palm, tracing your life line to the heart. No words,just foam on toes, the voice of the sea and the ballet of daystars against the sun soaked horizon. Moments so perfect that for once you just want time to stop so you can breathe a little deeper and remember that moment for the rest of your life. A second so pure , you feel the ancient language soar through your blood one with the sea and another soul as the salt air kisses the skin at the base of your throat. Cradling your voice, the breeze takes it away to be buried amongst the small grains of sand that lie in the dunes. No need to talk, all is known, just be and know all is good. Time passes slowly and we watch the sun dip below the. Do you feel tingling? Where?” She wanted to tell him what he had drunk from the coffee cup, but couldn’t, at least not yet. Something was wrong, of that she was sure. But it might be anything, she thought. Massey said, “In my arms, and my crotch.” Marlene dropped her hands from his arms as if they’d suddenly caught fire. The words from her boss were no longer just uncharacteristic. They were outrageous! “What?!” He repeated calmly, “In my arms and my crotch. I have tingling in my arms and, well, around my scrotum.” Marlene instinctively brought her hand to her mouth as if she were the one speaking so plainly. The Doctor simply stood there, robotic, as if there was nothing wrong. She took several seconds to sort through the last few words from each of them and only one explanation kept coming to the surface – something from the experimental liquid he’d consumed in his coffee, was impacting his mind. How could that be? To do whatever it was supposed to do to a mouse’s brain, it was.
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