Something I wrote earlier this year in Ghana – inspired by D’s “staring at the ceiling fan and remembering someone” dialogue
While others might think if they should hang themselves by their ceiling fan at times of desperation, he is always worried about the ceiling fan dropping on to him while he sleeps on his queen-sized bed below it. So obviously he doesn’t contemplate hanging himself by the fan, for he knows it wouldn’t take his weight and he would just make a fool of himself. He doesn’t know why the room hasn’t got just a single bed in it, which he could have moved to a corner away from the fan but it wasn’t his house, nor was it his decision to furnish it.
The fan has to be kept running all night else he wouldn’t be able to sleep, one thing he can sleep with is the low humming noise of the fan, everything else would have woken him up, but not his fan; as if its humming is his lullaby. But still he is probably subconsciously aware even in his sleep that the fan might drop on to him spinning its blades at mid-level rotation. And its no wonder that he pushes everything on to the side directly below the fan and lies himself on the other edge. If he was sleeping like this during his childhood, he would definitely have fallen over from the bed, but he is an adult now and his body is probably used to being on the edge – edge of the bed to start with, but also edge of the relations and relationships, edge of the society, edge of the country, edge of this world even.