Every step is one of uncertainty, I'm not happy about this And I voice my objections privately through gritted teeth! Will I make it to the door? I don't know...I should do! It's only five more meters, Sure I could fall three times with my six foot frame and I'd be there!
If so will I fumble with the keys as I lean against the wall feeling the chilled beads of sweat racing down my forehead stopping only when I feel the familiar sting in my eyes, Trying to catch my breath as its snatched out of my chest by the cold dead hand of this night.
Refuge?...My usually sharp senses now dulled as I step into the elevator, Staring at the numbers, They mean little to me now as they play their little game of mathematical dyslexia with me...Gazing down at the hand that now so often betrays me , I aim for three It decides instead on five, Lofty aspirations...It's all penthouses there...So five it is!
Just a five metre period of my life from yesterday where I figured it out, While Parkinson's robs my body... It rewards my mind!! And time doesn't matter anymore on my journey into life in gradual slow motion... It's all about distance!
Shaky Dave.
