Numb

The ring finger and pinky of both hands. My tongue when I wake up, most mornings. The tops of my feet, if I happen to be lying on my back. My left elbow. Along my left calf, where the hair has fallen out. The palms of my hands. A four-inch vertical strip on the left side of my forehead, running up under my hair, where there's a scar from an old war-wound. I'm going numb, one piece at a time.

Eventually, over years, the numbness will work its way inward, making my arms heavy and difficult to steer with, easing the pain of the shoulders, both of which I've separated doing various stupid things, and the hip, which I broke in college, and the muscles of my lower back, which always seem sore, ever since I broke thirty.

Once the numbness makes it to my heart, I guess that will be that.