"Are you alright?"
Like clockwork, I smiled.
"I'm fine."
Smiles and I'm fines were exhausting when you didn't mean them. I was so accustomed to producing them on command that it was hard to tell when I genuinely felt happy about something as opposed to grinning only because I decided the situation called for it.
But I'm afraid; what if one day I can't bring myself to smile and say I'm fine anymore?
What if I can't handle it anymore?
YOU ARE READING
Abditory
Random(n.) a place into which you can disappear; a hiding place Ideas that dance inside my mind. Muses of words with meanings that I've never said out loud.
