My old dance partner depression is beckoning me onto the floor. Winking at me with those sleepy bedroom eyes, calling me. In true seductress style she asks me only to think about it, imagine it, "our little secret" she says, "just between us". No one will have to know. The crowd around me mutes and my vision blurs, shifts and can only focus telescope style on the small circle of her, the rest blackness.
Posted by heyhansen at October 30, 2003 08:45 PMNothing she says is the truth, but she says it with such conviction it's hard not to believe her, and she knows exactly when to whisper in your ear...You're starting to sound like me. :-)
Posted by: uh at October 31, 2003 10:06 AM