That Man

He followed me to the End of Things
Where there was no place left to hide.
And as I ducked and cowered there
And got upon my knees
To ask him if he’d maybe not
He just slowly silently smiled,
Placed his heavy hand upon my head
And began to squeeze.

I wrote that when I was 13 or so. He is this dark shadowy figure that I have nightmares about. He stands at the end of my bed and I never know what he wants. So I have to keep waking myself up to make sure there is no one really there.

I saw him three times this past week.

I have figured out who he is, though, over the years. He is Uncertainly.

Got my nerve, don’t I? With all that I have going for me.

Sometimes I have to do what Ruthie does and go back and read “My Mother’s Rules” Have to revisit and shore up that weak frame I was built on.

Give me a half hour. I will be back to taking over the world. I turn a lot of corners during the day.

Peace.