who am I – Joan the funnel

She could feel the vocal chords in her throat vibrating.

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Copyright © 2015, Michael M Wayman

Joan Heddly never knew her parents, she was brought up in a home. She was different from all the other kids – she never used her head.

Joan was into basic instincts – eating and drinking – later alcohol and sex. She did what her guts told her to do, what did she need a head for? What use brains? She never said much, she poured food and drink straight down her throat. Did she need a head for that? However she did sing.

In her mid twenties she lost her head in an accident; that usually put a big stop on anyone's life, but not Joan, she still had her guts and they told her what to do. She regretted that she could no longer see or hear or speak or sing.

However she could eat and drink. At first she was fed in hospital through a tube down her throat to her stomach, she got to like this way of eating and drinking. She learnt how to mix the powdered food with water and put it down her throat using the tube and a big funnel where her head had been.

She learnt more, she could still feel things and move her body about. She learnt to dress herself and walk and move about with the aid of a walking stick. This was not so easy – no eyes and no sense of balance. She could also hum, she couldn't hear that, but she could feel the vocal chords in her throat vibrating. She could also scream.

She went for a walk in the park every day. Her day was twenty-five hours long, she went for walk sometimes by day and sometimes by night. She couldn't see that and she didn't know and she didn't care.

She liked the feel of the wind, the change of temperature, bumping into trees and people. She hummed tunes she knew, unfortunately she was tone deaf, also deaf. Most people avoided her – the sight of a humming person with a funnel in place of a head made some people incontinent. She couldn't see that and she didn't know and she didn't care.

She wanted to bump into interesting males and females and go home with them. It happened a few times, it was really good, but no one had a long term interest in somebody with a funnel for a head.

One day she bumped into Noël, this was not difficult as he could hardly see. She grabbed hold of him and he had to take her home with him.

She was just what he wanted, no girl had ever shown interest in him before, Joan did everything he wanted and more, it was great, it did not trouble him that she had a funnel for a head.

Joan hummed when she wanted something, Noël always knew what she wanted. He bought her a set of tuning forks. He held them to her collar bone and she hummed the right tone.

Most days were the same, Noël washed Joan under the shower, Noël mixed her feed and fed her, Noël went to the office, Noël came back, Noël mixed her feed and fed her, Noël emptied a bottle of red wine in Joan's funnel, Noël carried Joan to bed and clicked out the lamp. Joan and Noël had a very good time.