Published in Blood & Bourbon Issue #13

The juxtaposition
of the electric hum
arcing
inside my body
and the
mundane task
of going to
the post office

Almost enough
to make me laugh
but not out loud
and then that adds
to the neurons
firing like
hummingbird flaps
behind my eyes

Would you like
stamps today?
He quietly asks
in monotones
that surely signify
his own lightning storm
beneath the well-rehearsed
script that drives his day
I don’t know what I want
I tell him without
the slightest hint of shyness
and all the candour
I have in me

And when he looks
up
He really looks up

and meets my eyes
and both our lives
are violently whipping
in the wind of a moment
that shatters the daily mundane

And instead of a chuckle
or half-hearted joke
he pauses
and nods
and looks at my letter
and somehow it seems
like he
gets it
You’ll know
by the time
this arrives
Give yourself time
24 hours is all that it takes
and by then
it’ll all
be alright

And somehow
he was right