The standard issue emotion
cascaded out of his mind
and into his mouth
to consume the moment
and clear away all doubt.
He was absolutely certain he was right
as certain as a turning screw
as certain as a dogs nose
as certain as a period
as certain as a last breath.
He would scream it from a mountaintop
but that was too hard to get to
he would stand on a soapbox and speech it
but they don’t make those anymore
he would broadcast it on all channels
but the radio stations door was locked
he would whisper it in your ear
but that would be too close.
All bottled up now
and creeping doubt calling
he wondered if maybe just possibly he was wrong
and quiet panic set in what now wait a minute.
He found himself on the other side of the mirror
and yes he was sure yes sure
that he had been wrong.
He stared down at his shoes
and wondered who had been walking in them
as a very old man walked up to him
with a cold yet sad for him regard
and said you have had those long enough
give them back to me
yours are too tight
and they hurt me.
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Okay? Ahem, forgive the laughter which ensued, but there was perhaps some dry humour none too subtly couched in this discussion which tripped down the page finishing with an insistence its shoes were the wrong size. As for the poor beleaguered fellow who knew he was right until doubt laughed in his face, will somebody send him outside and tell him to listen closely? He’ll find refreshment the damned mirror never could proffer.
well you know, he was walking a mile in the other guys shoes…
Ah, prolly gave ‘im bunions and worse, puir feller. Mi commentado still stand, though.
Thank you very much for explaining.
THANKS FOR YOUR REFRESHING COMMENT!
Who, me?! But of course, my pleasure, you’re welcome.