No Knack

[J. R. Willerton]

A vignette I guess? I don't know terminology. I'm new here, hello.



Half an apple brown and half crisp green 'neath a soft exploding blue sky, cool sun, I sit twitching and twenty-one, not quite, almost, might not make it to, twenty-two. My conception of myself and the world round is hopelessly flawed at best, dismally, horrifically astute at worst. The changeling forever stranger dislikes eye contact mostly; sometimes walking by is a brutal contest of wills at the end of which I'm sent skittering off in a hypercharged state of nervosity, thoughts caught, strangulated by mean cold oblivious decent human beings.
Two packs of cigarettes and a meager portion of groceries (Please, sir?) and I continue with a minimum of discomfort, which is to say, much, but not intolerably much. Cigarettes make me think faster but less, one and a half loops of a circle and I hop to another, no spiraling idle torture, not much. I eat little, I might live frugally if not so dissolute, such an acolyte of impulse. They are not tokens to display in which I apathetically take pleasure, and of which I rail against a lack, but worlds into which I might escape, I might escape the crowbar eyes of the mildly curious, their polite smiles, my own strictly restrained abject thrashings at nothing, to no end.

[hillwalker]

Short - but this shows you have skill and I'm guessing a love of words.

'crowbar eyes' and 'the changeling forever stranger' stood out for me.

Feel free to post more.

H

[J. R. Willerton]

Thanks, H, will do. I certainly love words, yes yes.