Soul Cells by Bogdan Dragos

Image Source: Canva Pro

I can see it

clearly

even though the napkin is

folded and crumpled

around the small things

it covers,

I can see on it

a drawing of a dragon

with flowers for horns

it pokes its

forked tongue at me

and winks

also its eyes

have long lashes

“You listening?” she says

shaking the

fist that holds the

napkin

I can no longer see

the dragon drawn

on it

“What?”

I say

She proceeds to open the

napkin and

reveals a few small, white

pills.

“Forget what they taught

you in school. Despite

all they said,

the nerve cells of the brain

can actually be regenerated.

It’s been proven.

An’ you can do it

with these here beauties.

C’mon, take one.”

“What?” I said. “I didn’t

know my nerve cells

are damaged.”

“That’s because your

nerve cells

are damaged,” she said

“Damn…”

“No, seriously. They have to

be. It’s because you

spent so many nights

awake. That shit

kills neurons more than smoking,

drinking, and hard drugs

combined. You

probably have just

a handful left.”

“Damn…”

And she asked, “What’s

47×6?”

“I don’t know.”

“What did I ask you

two questions ago?”

“Shit, I can’t remember.”

“Do you even care?”

“Nope. Not really.”

“Your brain’s a graveyard

of neurons, boy.”

“Is it really that bad?”

“D’you still write?”

“Yeah.”

“Then it’s really that

bad.

Take one of those

pills. Here.”

She grabbed one with her

fingers yellowed

from cigarette smoke

and handed it to me

Perhaps the fact that I

took it proves

I’ve not that many

brain cells left. I don’t

know.

I don’t know why

they’re so

important in the first

place

Honestly,

at this point all I’m

worried about

is losing soul cells

Now that would

be a tragedy

But the wink of the drawn

dragon from

the napkin

proved I wasn’t quite

there yet

Thank God

-BOGDAN DRAGOS

Bogdan Dragos supervises casinos for a gambling company, working twelve-hour shifts locked in a dark office full of TV monitors. There he mostly daydreams and writes poems and stories. He also manages a poetry blog Daydreaming as a profession.

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