Nighttime Whispers: Who Stabs in the Dark?
I’m being stabbed, systematically, rhymthically. It’s sharp. It’s deep. It’s aiming at my left ear. Is it a knife? A stiletto? A hat pin? It must be needle-like. No cut on my outer ear.
It started seven days ago. About 3 am. Quiet, lying on my right side, some unknown force took advantage of me
What is the force? An army of microscopic soldiers dancing around my eardrum, shouting in glee while jabbing their miniature swords at the membrane? Who commands this force? Some invisible genie? Some sprite? An AI app gone bad?
I decide to ask.
“Hello out there. Are you attacking my ear?”
No answer.
Again, I ask. Louder this time. Or maybe it was loud the first time because I could not hear it out of the disabled ear.
“Hello. Who is attacking my ear?”
“We is.”
“Why? I try to be kind, to help others, to live a decent life.”
“We know.”
“Then why?”
“Because you are vulnerable.”
“But Brene Brown says it’s good to be vulnerable.”
“Not if it’s your ear.”
“Why was my ear vulnerable? Did I hear the wrong thing? Didn’t I keep it clean? Wait…who is “we.”
“We is we.”
“Are you speaking for the bacteria?”
“Nope. Just us.”
“Again. Who is us?”
“We’ve answered that question.”
When will you go away and stop stabbing my ear?
“When the antibiotics calm our army?”
“Will you and the others stick around?
“What others? It’s just us.
