Enon: Kanon

3 am, irregular heartbeat has stabilized, blood thinned by rat poison--dreams keep breaking loose like dreaded clots might without the Warfarin. Monitors beep, a gurney clicking and clacking on the hard floor, wheeled up to my quasi darkened room--like a snowy moonlit night--pushed by two men with shaggy hair. They are directed by a tiny woman, a nurse who begins to sing in my drug muffled ears--calming and frightening at turns. We stop in a quiet dim lit hallway as she injects me with something... I think it was called 'Kanon' or Enon.

I can see lights, colours, although my eyes are closed, I think. I can hear unfamiliar names called, strange names, and then, and then.... my own. I blink awake in Emerg with the dream nurse's song still swirling in my ears; I keep thinking Blonde Redhead, Blonde Redhead with American blood and electronic rhythm, but that's not right--trying to find a name, but none comes to mind... none... nonE....Enon. Walking towards the triage nurse who called my name, I almost hope they can't get my cd player earphones, some bastard krazy glued into my ears, loose.

Alan Williamson *Sixeyes

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