text: Part one: Capers Harry had heard from God last night He hadn’t slept much at all that week, drinking every night to calm his nerves and to possibly coax himself to sleep. It wasn’t working. At the end of the week he was burnt out with hardly any money left in his bank account. When he arrived home that Friday he was debating whether or not he should use what scant money he had left to get more beer but then he would have trouble paying the bus fare to get to work next week. “Fuck, shit," he muttered to himself unconsciously, it was his most common verbal tic. He took out his phone and logged in to his bank account to try to figure out what he should do with his last ten dollars.There was $3.45 in savings like there always was, and in checkings there was $154.53. Harry closed his eyes and opened them. The money was still there. He logged out of his account and then logged back in. The money was still there. Had he some pending payment owed to him that was somehow forgotten? There was no reason he could think of as to why that money was there. He refreshed the page over and over again but it still showed the same results. It had to be a banking error in his favor, that was the only possible explanation he decided. The pale, bloated body he inhabited suddenly felt a burst of life and he shot up out of his house to immediately capitalize on this fortunate accident. At the corner store he withdrew all of the money so the bank wouldn’t be able to get it back until next payday then bought a six pack and a pack of Newport 100s. On his way back home the rush of energy that propelled him off the couch was starting to wear off, his steps slowed and his eyes became glassy. His racing mind has become quiet and serene, a trance like state comparable to meditation. Common sights were rendered unfamiliar. A peaceful and accepting air had engulfed him, he basked in the inner silence, relishing a break from the bad thoughts that he had to drink to silence. Then something happened. “You are dying.” It was spoken softly by a calm and certain voice. He looked around but the streets were bare this cold night. It must have come from his head but it didn’t feel like it was his own internal voice. Unperturbed by this development he continued on walking in his mindless state. Then not ten steps later in the same knowing tone: “You are dying and will be dead soon.” Harry stopped dead in his tracks.Standing there wavering slightly back and forth he started musing about death. In this hypnotic state he felt certain that he could accept death whereas usually he was terrified of it. But why be afraid now? There was no reason he could conceive of. But who had said that? “How?” He thought. A vision started to fill his mind, he watched as it manifested and began to play out like a movie. He was in a hospital bed, writhing in pain and clutching his stomach. His face was contorted into a wide twisted smile that was only interrupted briefly by a spasm of pain. A doctor entered the room looking concerned with a nurse at his side. Harry seemed oblivious to their entry. They parted at the front of his bed, each going to one side. Upon reaching his waist they leaned over and checked the restraints on Harry’s wrists. Satisfied that they were secure the doctor said “Come on in.” Harry’s mother came through the door. Harry’s body suddenly shot up, bound by restraints on his hands and feet his torso and legs formed a squirming upside down u shape like a yoga bridge. Then he let out such a howl it sounded not human. “KILL ME KILL ME KILL ME KILL ME FUCK SHIT KILL ME FUCK SHIT AAAAAAHHHHH MOM I AM SORRY MOM MOM MOM I AM SORRY MOM MOM MOM FUCK SHIT FUCK KILL MEEEEEE!!!!” His mother put her face in her hands and started weeping uncontrollably. The nurse ran over to her and led her out of the room by her wrist. The doctor leaned over Harry with a syringe in hand. The vision ended there.