I should've been alarmed but I wasn't. Maggie was getting more and more tweaked by the minuite, but for some reason it was as though our emotional states were developing in a kind of inverse relation to one another. I felt calm.
It was definitely a tablecloth that was coming out of my right ear. You don't really see that red and white checkered cloth anywhere else. Maggie was talking to me, not yelling, but certainly speaking at an above average volume. Her problem was that she was standing on the wrong side of me, the right side, and her anxious banter was mostly muffled to me and my stuffed ear. It didn't feel like my problem. I was gazing into the mirror, my eyes focusing lazily. The red and white plume sprouting from my head looked brighter than everything else, like it had its own stage instruments lighting it independently of everything else. Somehow it seemed almost animated, or like a CGI effect, only it looked more real than myself, Maggie, and the rest of my bathroom. Just a cunt's hair away from being cartoonish, but still the realest looking thing reflected in the mirror's frame.
Maggie was still talking to me. I wasn't paying attention at all, which could be considered forgivable under the circumstances, but in all honesty I think I was using my blocked up ear to excuse myself. A silly urge came over me. I started vigorously twisting my head back and forth, in a "no," motion. I watched the cloth flap behind my head, then in front of my face, then behind my head, repeatedly. It looked cool in the mirror. I giggled softly, but it was loud in my head.
Maggie wasn't laughing. She caught the corner of the tablecloth in one hand and gently placed the other hand on my head. Her fingers always felt nice to my scalp.
"Ready?" she said.
It was definitely a tablecloth that was coming out of my right ear. You don't really see that red and white checkered cloth anywhere else. Maggie was talking to me, not yelling, but certainly speaking at an above average volume. Her problem was that she was standing on the wrong side of me, the right side, and her anxious banter was mostly muffled to me and my stuffed ear. It didn't feel like my problem. I was gazing into the mirror, my eyes focusing lazily. The red and white plume sprouting from my head looked brighter than everything else, like it had its own stage instruments lighting it independently of everything else. Somehow it seemed almost animated, or like a CGI effect, only it looked more real than myself, Maggie, and the rest of my bathroom. Just a cunt's hair away from being cartoonish, but still the realest looking thing reflected in the mirror's frame.
Maggie was still talking to me. I wasn't paying attention at all, which could be considered forgivable under the circumstances, but in all honesty I think I was using my blocked up ear to excuse myself. A silly urge came over me. I started vigorously twisting my head back and forth, in a "no," motion. I watched the cloth flap behind my head, then in front of my face, then behind my head, repeatedly. It looked cool in the mirror. I giggled softly, but it was loud in my head.
Maggie wasn't laughing. She caught the corner of the tablecloth in one hand and gently placed the other hand on my head. Her fingers always felt nice to my scalp.
"Ready?" she said.
MAKES ME SAD: Republicans, religious nuts, new agers, believers, and other anti-scientific, deeply misguided people. Bad music, bad politics, and bad brains, basically.
You make me laugh. More wasted posts, i command you.