Fishing at the mill used to be fun. Walking home through town in the middle of a cloudy afternoon used to be fun. Sitting down in front of the house and talking about movies used to be fun. Holding her hand out in front of her face and thinking about that hand one day holding another hand in love, or holding a pen and writing about love, or gripping a gavel, or a scalpel, or a microphone, all those things used to be fun, but now when she holds her hand out in front of her face all she can think about is clawing the air because the air gives her the feeling of drowning.
©2022 Ben Greenman/Stupid Ideas
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