#0131. I think he arrived the first time on Charlemagne's Birthday. Maybe the year before when Charlemagne died. I don't explicitly remember him from any time before that. But then he corrected me. He showed me notes from my childhood. He scrawled out the number of my teeth. He danced in the background as I flinched out of fear and panic. He tortured me for my handwriting and for my lack of organizational acumen. He stole my friends and pushed me aside and left me to fend for myself. Years later and I cannot remember what I ever wanted people around for.
No comments:
Post a Comment