Apple by Chance Dibben
I have an image of an apple in my head. The apple is my head, the image static and frozen like a photograph of a sneeze in a blizzard. The apple can be shaken, yet it does not move. The head can be reattached with relatively minor memory loss. The apple can drive the bones, which is good, because 85% of being a head is this. The other 15 is split between an anagram generator and space that is mistaken for a soul. The apple has a worm in it, which often drives the apple, which motors the bones. The worm, if you remember 10th grade biology has the ability to regrow its head. Or its body. Or its head. The apple inside the worm inside the apple is a tiny Fuji. The worm inside the apple inside the worm is the soul. This is the part that tries to escape when sneezing, hence God Bless You. Little does the worm, the soul, or the head know, there’s only bigger apples on the outside, bigger heads, bigger souls.
Chance Dibben is a writer and performer living in Lawrence, KS. His work has appeared, or is forthcoming, in Split Lip, Reality Hands, Squawkback, Horsethief, Kiosk, as well as others. Find him online @chancedibben