Simon found the news unbearable.
His expectations began all to simultaneously rise and pop like the bubbles in his fresh beer.
“Wow, that’s fantastic!”
The words were sincere, but after they’d left him he had to shut his mouth again fast. He couldn’t let escape the sounds of his insides creaking under their own weight.
“I’m really happy for you!”
The words were made of staccato wind sliced in his chest. He felt his woven ego flutter and strain like a bedsheet hung out against the April wind.
“Congratulations!”
Something sleeping in a depth of him was tossing and rolling through a bad dream. He wondered in a ripple of this grinding turbulence.
Quit Vision 