At 2 a.m.
I prayed. I begged. I was on my knees and belly after the first twitch of an aura hit.
"Aura" is a term that would appear, from sound alone, to impart some angelic or redeeming quality. An aura, the experience, is nothing of the sort, unless by "angelic," you mean the kind of angel that guides you into hurl hell. An aura is a set of symptoms and sensations that let you know something wicked this way comes. I've gotten auras before rheumatoid arthritis and lupus flares, and I definitely get an aura before a migraine, my 2 a.m. visitor. I asked Jesus, Buddha, Krishna, or whoever was heading the graveyard shift to pitch in. Someone was listening.
So far, so good. I have only had my breakfast once, not twice, and let's hope it stays that way.
Photo credit: "Buddha Bounces As I Drive Past Am-Ko" by benchilada on flickr (click on photo for more work from this artist). His livejournal where you can also see his fiction and non-fiction: benchilada.livejournal.com. Permission obtained for use.