Dangerously Dining Indoors
Before anything attacked I was alert. On edge. Awake in my usual writing room with tense shoulders, a sensitive spot below my left earlobe, and floating head.
What does it even mean to listen to the body?
Here I was afraid of sitting inside in a chair. Everything upset. Turned away at the window, imagining my buttocks firm against the seat, my stomach burning, and irritated whispers.
Do you hear the fear, the crackling sounds, hanging over the open sign?
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