When it first happened I thought I was magic. The first time I moved an object with my mind I thought is was a dream.

Throughout my years I have dreamed that I had telekinesis so I sometimes just try to move things with thought in case the dream is a prophesy. The other day I willed a bowl of Chex Mix to slide to me on the coffee table.

I looked at it, (I was high at the time) and thought it to me. Just as in the dream it started slowly but I felt something... well... ('POP' is the only way I can describe it) happen in my brain. Now I can 'hear the universe.'

After I realized it wasn't magic, I thought I was some sort of supernatural freak or ESP dude or something. As I came to harmony with my metamorphosis, however, I came to See that I had simply opened up a clog in my mental flow.

It was cool. At first I was heald back by the absurd notion that heavier objects were harder to move than, say, a piece of tissue or an onion ring.

I could slide a fridge just as easily as I could a Rubik's Cube...

Two days later I learned I could fly. It was the same princilpe as moving things but I just concentrated on moving me. It's not so much FLY as FLOAT.

Tonight, though, I was out walking and I had been drinking some tequila and I wanted to walk to the bar to buy more tequila and I saw a homeless guy. He was like a bum with greasy hair and his beard that, though trimmed like that of an artist or professor, looked ratty and toxic.

He had cancer.

How do I know?

I smelled it. I could SMELL it. In his lymph nodes. He exuded it. He BREATHED it.

You might ask how I know what cancer smells like or how I can even smell it in the first place. It's easy. You could do it, too, if you only try. Not normal trying, but TRYING, with a capital TRYIN.'

"How's it goin,'" I ask.

'Pretty, good; you wouldn't happen to have a couple bucks you could spare...?"

I reached into my pants as if to search for small bills and just lunged as I willed him to slide to me. The look of confusion on his face was comical.  

His upper torso was pulled to me as if I were a magnet and his worn work boots slid along the blacktop.

I tore his bowels open with my hand and pulled. He made a clucking/laugh noise as his intestines snagged and finally ripped loose. I fed for a few seconds then flew/floated away.

I'm scared now because of how good that felt. I'm craving more. I live with my Gramma'. She raised me. She has cancer. I smelled it tonight for the first time. It's in her stomach and the smell makes me hungry...