THE ARCHIVES: Chapter 97

Discombobulated

Gary walked beside me.
He’s got a funny, limping kind of walk,
almost like one leg’s shorter than the other.
The moment I finished that thought,
Gary said,
“Yeah. I’m walking weird
because I tripped over this
huge rock. And I put my shirt
on inside out. I had a
crazy night last night, so I’m
kind of, uh, discombobulated
this morning.”
The use of the word
discombobulated
made me smile.
“And you,” he said,
“look like you could use
some crazy nights.
You always look
so sad.”
But didn’t you just
see me smile?

I internally defended my countenance.

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