Jan
8th
Sat
8th
Very Best Work
Run in the cold and let the chill bite me. For them. For her.
A command, “Attack!”
Feel the bites of a thousand inanimate abstract killers. They are everything. They did.
Let out a sob, the deepest, loudest, gasp in despair. Blink through the tears to put on my sweater to fight off the cold.
Please don’t let them hear me. Run away for shame of the noise. Don’t let me cause anyone to stress over me.
The last tears fall away and the sob ebbs.
How could I be ashamed of a sob like that? It is magnificent. It is my very best work.
