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fear chic (ii)

so i go searching charity shops because

i forgot to bring a book today and

i want to get something to eat in a momen

because i am hungry

because i have not eaten anything yet today

because i forgot i am a flesh-and-blood thing

but i want to sit down somewhere to eat

which is something i do not like to do without either

1: the company of a book or

2: another living being of some sort

(one who will not make small talk

or touch my hands or think i matter)

since these are both fairly good excuses

not to make eye contact—even unintentional—

with anyone who happens to be around you

which is something i do not like doing

as every time without fail it makes me feel

a little nauseous, just a little

*There are two major measures of eye irritation.

One is blink frequency which can be observed by human behavior.

The other measures are break up time, tear flow, hyperemia

(redness, swelling), tear fluid cytology,

and epithelial damage (vital stains) etc.,

which are human beings’ physiological reactions.

Blink frequency is defined as the number

of blinks per minute and it is associated

with eye irritation. Blink frequencies are individual

with mean frequencies of < 2-3 to 20-30 blinks/minute,

and they depend on environmental factors

including the use of contact lenses*

 

i settle on a three-book set of stephen king

and i read the first thirty pages of "the girl who loved tom gordon"

sitting in a cafe between very slight interspersions of rain-watching

and i manage to avoid looking quite directly at anyone,

even the waitress,

which i am proud of myself for

in a small sad sort of way

but then i get up and i go to the restroom

and i spend several seconds deliberating

over whether to use the womens or the mens

because i am a liar either way

but i settle for womens just like i settled for king

and when i walk in there is a lady there

washing her hands at the sink

and we meet eyes for a moment

before i flee into a stall and, sitting on the toilet,

knees drawn up and tense,

holding my head in my hands,

burst promptly

into tears

 

i leave and i stop at the counter to pay the bill

which i almost forgot

and i find i have change, yes,

i have exact change, precise.

i worry about the chance of this

for five minutes after i leave;

i stand in the street and i find the rain has gone off,

but it hasn’t,

so i stand there holding in my hand

an unused £10 note that is verging on soggy

and i worry about whether that is okay

and then i go to sainsburys

and i buy tea and chocolate

just to get rid of that ******* ten pound note

that my gran gave me yesterday

that has a pen mark on it

that my granddad was almost certainly responsible for

(which does not make me cry but

does make me clench my fist very strangely

for a moment feeling embittered

towards this self-service checkout

that i am going to hand this tenner over to

knowing it will be eating up something

that reminds me of the way my granddad smelt

and the way he sort of hurt to be held by

because he was so odd and bony and my face

could never rest quite right on his shoulders for it,

and i do not know whether this is

a bad thing or a good thing i am doing, here)

and i almost buy bread too

but there are too many people in that aisle

so i do not

 

i go home and i read on the internet

about piercing one’s ears at home

and then i almost buy a suturing kit

from a medical supplies website

for a dog that i really like

and i get changed out of that jumper

into a shirt, finally

but now it is too cool rather than too warm

so then i just end up

taking all of my clothes off entirely

and crying naked

under the bedsheets

like a coffin-baby

because the world just won’t stop for me

and i really

really

should have bought some bread

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Written by
ns-ezra
Scottish
Published
Jan 31, 2013
Lines·Words
99·720
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