Shapeshifter

by Doris Martin

Dyskinesia is an unwelcome Shapeshifter lurking in the shadows of my body, biding time until surfacing when most inconvenient and embarrassing. Like a puppet on strings, I begin out-of- control yet seductive dance movements; onlookers on the edge of their seat, taking bets on when I will lose balance and fall over. Defective signals from the brain scream “Spastic” suggesting people with a disability are stupid or flawed. The Shapeshifter robs me of my dignity and leaves me afraid of the knife I am using to chop vegetables for dinner. Having demonstrated power and control, the Shapeshifter retreats to the shadows to await the next malfunctioning brain signals. Then it starts all over again.