Talking to Myself

Talking to Myself



“This has been the craziest month ever. And I swear if it snows again, well, I don’t know what I’ll do. Perhaps I’ll run naked in the woods. Yep. That’s what I’ll do. Run naked in the woods. I’m alone. Who’ll see me? What do I care? Hmmm…… Now I am going crazy. Talkin’ to myself.” ………………………….. “

Whoops, must’a fallen asleep there for a second or two. Can’t do that. Slap the face. Ouch! That was stupid. Must stay awake. Have to guard the cabin. Keep the heebie jeebies out. Don’t want no heebie jeebies getting’ in. Keep them little critters out. Them’s likely to steal all my food.”………………………Yikes sakes live, did them cum in yere and get it…….Swear I put the mess of beans right yonder……Did you steal the cheese puffs?…….now don’t fall over them li’l cusses………Don’t you dare touch that last can of pop or I’ll pop u one…………li’l debi……………..Hey you li’l buggers! You cum bak yere wit………………………………………………………………………….. it……..dem……….tings……………

Holy …….Cow…………………………….Mother ……………….………………………....Mary………………………………You filthy li’l…………bugger…………..scummy………………..baag…………………..jab
…..mosquitoes………………………………….

“Wait, I must wake up. What in the world is going on? I must be dreaming. Talking in my sleep and dreaming. Dreaming of those ugly little heebie jeebies again. I knew this would happen. Now is not the time to go cold turkey on anything.

Okay. Try the writing again. I will write the demons out. Write that story I’ve been thinking about. Write all night and all day and into the end of this blessed blizzard. Blast the computer! Blast the internet! Blast the snow! AAARRGGH! My battery is dead. Where’s the paper? Where’s the pen? Who rents a cabin in the mountains without paper and writing utensils? Why didn’t I pack better? I swear I packed all the things I needed. Underwear, pajamas, clothes, computer, food and water. Should’ve had a checklist. I see on the counter at home the computer cable, the notebook, my pens. All the caffeine in the world. Right there where I left them. Oh, I need sunlight. I need fresh air. I need May.”


W/C 342