It all started with textured welts, thatches of reddened polyps gathered in fields across my belly—bulbous nodules, rotund knobs—larger nodes surrounded by diminutive nipple like pustules with pus frothing from scabbed gullets. I began having nightmares. It felt like déjà vu. I wanted to leave that old house but momma wouldn’t let me. Her voice bellowed through the halls, her breath vile, a wind of sickness whispering in my left ear and my right dead, packed with wax, my equilibrium distorted and confusion my normalcy.
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