For My Patrons 🔒 : Don't Touch My Wrists (Second Draft)
This March, I share with my patrons an attempt at a short piece of autofiction (fictionalized autobiography). My goals are to experiment with polyphony and scene transitions between overlapping memories.
Please note that this excerpt comes with a minor content warning for needles (in the context of therapeutic settings). As always, read with care.
Please, please don’t touch my wrists. Please. Please.
I don’t actually recall if I say it quite in that manner. But I do start the way I always do, by way of explanation. With a smile and a chuckle that conveys exactly how crazy I am. But I’m the charming kind of crazy, with a wry, self-deprecating smile. The kind that is at least a little self-aware, and very apologetic: I know it’s unreasonable, even inconvenient.
The comments section is open below. You can also throw a coin to your blogger, check out the guestbook before leaving, and come find me on the fediverse.