Twinge flit
What was that? Twinge! There it is again. Oh that. Smells like guilt. Guilty-freshness. About what, you ask? That time I forgot to change that typo they asked me to. For leaving my girl at a child care center rather than caring for her myself (where there are two meanings for “caring”). For being short-tempered. For not being perfect. You name it. Sitting here in front of a computer those little twinges alight on my shoulder like the dust motes that casually float through the air. Flit. Off they go to land on my soda can. Oh crap, I kicked at the cat when he got in my way. Mote mote mote. Flit flit flit.
Maybe it’s just a poignant kind of song that pops on. Sniff. That’s kinda... sad...Flit!
Little heartbreak
From afar, I see Ruby sit down next to girl a couple of years older, watch the girl wordlessly get up and move 12 feet away. Ruby seems unaware of slight, but it takes a chunk of my heart. Even now remembering it tears me apart a little. I’m sure this is the first of many. Flit.
Maybe it’s just a poignant kind of song that pops on. Sniff. That’s kinda... sad...Flit!
Little heartbreak
From afar, I see Ruby sit down next to girl a couple of years older, watch the girl wordlessly get up and move 12 feet away. Ruby seems unaware of slight, but it takes a chunk of my heart. Even now remembering it tears me apart a little. I’m sure this is the first of many. Flit.
