Winter 1891 – The Body Has a Memory of Its Own

 

Hans looked at his hands. He formed them into fists and then, slowly uncurled them. He said, ” At first, I was blind. Something in the blood or in the way that Ludwig attached my brain made the healing slow. But it was better than before. I was strong again. Stronger than I had ever been. My old body only survived because I willed it. Every day required me to force it move. This body? I almost think this body could live without my brain to drive it. Wouldn’t that be a wonderful thing?” 

His laughter was phlegmy and deep, like falling molasses in a cave.

I asked, “What did Ludwig do with the brain that originally inhabited that body?”