Friday, August 19, 2016

Part of today's writing

I couldn’t tell if she was going to hug me or not. There was that awkward moment, the move forward, and then she smiled and stepped back. Had I given off that don’t-touch-me vibe? I hadn’t meant to, but sometimes that didn’t matter. Sometimes your skin does the talking for you. It puts off the vibes that your mouth can’t find the words to express.

What the fuck happened the other night? What happened?

I once read a book by Stephen King where he talked about calling the mind police and having a particular thought led away in handcuffs. I didn’t feel capable of getting in touch with Mental 911, though. Whether it was because I was too weak or too strong, though, I couldn’t have told you. 

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