It would be an understatement to say that Ashley was surprised when her head fell off, but she was more surprised that it didn’t seem to kill her.
Ashley had slept well that night, at least she had thought so. She’d been lying on her back when the morning sun started to brighten her bedroom. Ashley went to sit up; she felt herself sit up. Nevertheless, she was still looking up at the ceiling.
When she looked down her nose, she saw the problem; she saw her own back. She attempted to move her left arm, and found that she still could.
Ashley came up with a plan. She commanded her body to lay back down; it obeyed.
She grabbed her head with both hands and adjusted her neck onto her shoulders. Still holding her head between her palms, she sat up.
There, she thought, that did it.
Ashley slowly and steadily rose to her feet, carefully keeping her back straight and walking with finishing school posture.
Feeling stable now, she let go of her head and managed to hold it there for three unassisted steps.
“Well, I guess we’re done with that,” she said aloud to no one.
Two steps later, her head rolled backwards off her shoulders and bounced face first onto the hallway floor.
Twenty minutes of testing, a scarf, and a roll of packing tape later, Ashley was ready for work.
There, nobody even asked about her scarf; they were too distracted by her broken nose.