Him
I see him again. "What is he doing here?" my brain asked. "You tell me." I snapped. "Isn't this your doing?" "I haven't thought about him in years." my brain fumbled for an explanation. Yet, here he was, hijacking my sub-conscious. I wondered about the possibility of him trying to reach nooks and crannies of my mind to search for something. Is this the plot of a new James Bond movie? "Do we have to talk to him?" I asked. Should we acknowledge an intruder or lie low? "I suppose he would reach out. Your headspace is not exactly a walk in the park." my brain was being a smart-mouth. "You're welcome!" Complication is my defense-mechanism. "Are we in a party?" I looked around at the sea of faceless guests, laughing, drinking. "It would appear so," my brain tried to apply some soothing piano jazz in the background. So this IS a plot of a new James Bond movie. There was also some incoherent...