Elephant on my chest. Time is slower, I feel like swimming into thick syrup. Black anchor tied to my feet. I am drowning. Inside me, something is throbbing, trembling.

What is it? I ask in the mirror.

This is you, replies an old man.

For there in the ghastly pit long since a body was

found,

His who had given me life - O father ! O God ! was it

well? -

mangled, and flatten'd, and crush'd, and dinted

into the ground:

There yet lies the rock that fell with him when he fell.

- Tennyson.