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Puppy š¶
“Youāre my puppy,” she said. “Yes, I am,” I thought. She engages in playful banter, tenderly calling me her “puppy” with a smile. Much like a devoted owner, she showers me with attention, gives gentle pats on the head, and at times treats (kisses, of course) when I obediently come running towards her signals. It’s…
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Sofa šļø
“Letās attach the sofas,” she said. “You canāt be serious,” I chuckled. She was serious indeed. She even showed me how sheād connect them, making shapes with her tiny little fingers. I loved her so much in that moment. So I gave it a thought, letās try for one night. I could tell it was…
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Protected: Sting
There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.
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Writing
āYou write!ā she said. āLittle does she know,ā I thought. Iāve been here. Iāve been through these spurts of writing, letting it flow through me. When it cannot, I force it out of myself for my own good. Those memories are blurry. I donāt remember writing anything in my childhood. I remember listening, having distinct…
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Routine
“You don’t get it,” she said. “But I know exactly what you mean,” I thought. It took you a few months to go from “You’re the best part of my day” to “You’re my day.” But it happened to me way before. I let that addiction engulf me before I let our bodies get habitual…