C4 antho - Chamber Four

The Abjection
____________
by Michael Mejia
from AGNI
We are not sleeping well. Our eyes are open. Perhaps the bed
is too hard, says the one. The bed is not too hard, says the
other. Night is over. The bed is unmoved. It is not the first
time. The bed is new. It must be paid off within the year. We
must avoid unnecessary charges. We must make regular payments.
A small portion of our modest salaries. A reasonable
sum for comfort. For sleep. Because our credit is not good. We
are afraid to ask. We just pay. What else can we do? We pay
and we pay. We pay. It cannot be the bed. But we are not
sleeping well. We sleep without touching. The bed is wide. We
have room to turn. We would not even know. We do not turn.
We lie awake. We hear ourselves. We do not ask, “Are you
awake?” Not anymore. We are awake. Perhaps the bed is too
hard, says the one. The bed is not too hard, says the other. We
dismantle the frame. We reassemble the frame. We tighten the
frame. We use tools. Splendidly they fit our hands. Our hands
are the perfect size. Still we are not sleeping well. Perhaps it is
not the frame, says the one. We turn the mattress over. We
make the foot the head. We turn the mattress over. Perhaps it
is not the mattress, says the other. We move the bed to the
window. We move it away from the window. We point it toward
the door. But we have heard that this is unlucky. We
angle the bed in the corner. The three other corners. We cannot
open the door. We cannot reach the closet. Our clothes
hang in the dark. We imagine them. They have no shape. They
are shapeless. They were not made for us. No memory of us.
Nothing of our bodies. We are naked. We move the bed. There
is another bedroom. There is a bathroom. There is another